


The Contract

by aya_modj (ariales)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-10-17
Updated: 2008-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariales/pseuds/aya_modj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When signing a contract, always remember these two things:<br/>First: Read everything before you sign.<br/>Second: Never trust anything that was written by Ootori Kyoya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting here for archiving purposes. beta by catharticdeficit

 

* * *

Ranka found the stack of papers under Haruhi’s pillow when he was looking for his red earring. They were all statements of accounts that were already a month overdue and also, he frowned as he ruffled through it, a couple of disconnection notice. No wonder Haruhi had been so stressed these past few months. Ever since she got a job in the law firm that Ranka’s friend had recently started, she had insisted that she take care of the expenses around the house.

Of course, Ranka admitted guiltily, he had a lot to blame in the financial problem they’re experiencing. Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to buy that new car, two days after the bar he was working for closed down. But in his defense, it wasn’t through a whim that he bought it. _No_ , of course it wasn’t. That’s an _outrageous_ idea. It was just… well, just… you know, when a person is –

Okay, so maybe it was a _tiny_ whim on his part, but he just lost his job for crying out loud. He was depressed and depressed people sometimes do things without thinking about the consequences of their actions and that salesman was pretty convincing (not to mention really cute too), because, really, who could ever say no to him?

Anyway, the point is, after he lost his job, he had this sudden need to spend his money. After all, he told himself, he does deserve to indulge himself sometimes, doesn’t he? He had been working for more that two decades now, what’s a few yen here and there? Unfortunately, he _might_ have gone a little bit overboard. It was unfair when you think about it. Just when he has no money to support himself, the statements of his debts started coming in.

Haruhi, bless her, told him not to worry about anything, and even took him in her small apartment. Now she does not only have to work hard for herself, but also for him too. Ranka wished he could do something – _anything_ – to help her. Haruhi’s salary, to be honest, is really not enough to keep up with their expenses, and he really hated being a burden to her.

Ranka returned the papers under her pillow. He peeked in one of her drawers, hoping to find any accessory he could wear for his job hunting that night when he caught sight of Haruhi’s old high school ID. He slowly took it from beneath a book and stared at her face. For a while, he just stood there, when suddenly something clicked.

It was as if Heaven finally pitied him and gave him the inspiration for a very wonderful idea. He felt like an artist, like Da Vinci when he painted _‘Mona Lisa’_. No, better. He felt _like_ Mona Lisa.

 _Of course._ Ranka almost wanted to pinch himself. There is a way to help Haruhi. Why didn’t he think of it before? His face broke into a grin as he rushed back to his room and began to rummage through his box of old letters.

_His number must be in here somewhere…_

 

* * *

Haruhi woke up in a bad mood. Her cell phone fell in an open manhole last night, she had lost her house key, she had this weird dream about a laptop wearing glasses who kept running after her, and now her alarm was broken and she’s already late. When she got to the kitchen, she saw her father already up and preparing the table for her breakfast. He beamed at her as she plopped down on the chair and began eating.

“Good morning, Haruhi,” Ranka singsong.

“Mn.”

“It is such a beautiful day, don’t you think?”

“Mn.”

Ranka settled down across her. “Sometimes, days like these just makes you want to sit back and reminisce about the past.” He smiled at her. “Don’t you wish you could go back and meet your high school friends once again?”

“Definitely not.”

“Yes,” Ranka nodded vigorously, “I agree with you. It would be so much fun to meet them again – ” He blinked. “Eh, what did you say?”

Haruhi spared a second to glance at him. “Definitely not,” she repeated, before returning to her coffee.

Ranka laughed. “My daughter is not only cute, but has a really funny sense of humor. Haruhi, have any of your friends in that – what do you call it – Host Club recently contacted you?”

“No,” she answered. She didn’t bother to tell Ranka how she always avoid answering calls from Tamaki and the twins, as they tend to disturb her with all their nonsense. As of the moment (because she just lost her phone last night), she had changed number about 12 times already.

“Really? Gosh, they really are insensitive about simple people like us, aren’t they? It’s probably that blond idiot who prevents them from calling you.” He took a sip of his coffee and smiled at her. “Anyway, I have a surprise for you.”

She immediately looked up. “You didn’t just buy another car, did you?” Her forehead creased in worry.

Ranka blinked. “No.”

“A new TV set, then? Or another one of those ovens?” She paused. “Not a new curling iron, I hope.”

“No.” Haruhi sighed in relief. “My surprise is that I have found the solution to your problem,” he said proudly.

She paused again. “Oh. What problem?”

“You now, our growing list of debts and – ”

“Dad, I told you not to go snooping in my things,” she said frowning. “You don’t have to worry about it. Everything is under control. In fact, I have just accepted a new case yesterday, and this client works from a really big company so –”

“Oh, so he’ll be paying you real money this time?” Ranka asked mildly. “Not like the other one you’ve handled where they paid you with vegetables and chicken eggs?”

She twitched, “Dad, they were just poor farmers. And I already knew they wouldn’t have that much money to pay me. I just wanted to help them that’s why I accepted their case.”

“I know,” he nodded before grinning. “But from now on, you don’t have to worry about eggs, or vegetables or… or animal poop. Because guess what?”

“What?”

“I found you a job,” he beamed.

Silence.

“I know,” she said baffled. “I already _do_ have a job.”

“Not this job. A new one!”

She stared at him. “You want me to work part-time?”

“No. I mean – ”

A loud knock on the door interrupted Ranka. He glanced at the wall clock and shrieked.

“He’s here?” Ranka panicked. “But I haven’t put any make-up yet!”

Haruhi stood up. “Who are you expecting?”

“Haruhi, could you please get to the door for me? I’m just going to grab a powder,” he called as he ran to his room.

Haruhi raised an eyebrow and slowly walked up to the front door. She opened it and blinked when she who their guest was.

A tall, handsome, young man in a black, expensive suit stared down at her. She stared back at the face that she had not seen for the past five years of her life. The man pushed his glasses up.

It was Ootori Kyoya.

 

* * *

“Kyoya-senpai?” She blinked. “What are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Interesting question. You need my help, don’t you?”

“Eh?” She frowned.

“Kyo-ya – kun!” Ranka suddenly appeared behind Haruhi, an ecstatic smile on his face. “You’re here. I didn’t expect you until lunch. Oh, come in. Come in.” He stepped aside and let Kyoya enter. “It’s really wonderful to see you again.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Kyoya said, smiling at him. “I was surprised to receive your call but needless to say, it was flattering to know you still remember me. You do look more fabulous than the last time I saw you.”

Ranka let out a giggle as he led Kyoya into their living room. “Of course I still remember you, silly boy. Who could ever forget about someone like you? To tell you the truth, I was afraid you wouldn’t accept the tiny favor I asked. You’re the only one who can help us, Kyoya-kun.”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “Ranka-san, you know I couldn’t ever refuse you,” Kyoya answered pleasantly.

Haruhi watched as her father and Kyoya disappeared from her view, their voices fading in her ears. She clutched at the doorknob for support, feeling all the strength leave her body.

_Favor. Help. Kyoya._

Her blood suddenly ran cold.

Somehow, those words in just one conversation brought an inevitable deadly fear in her entire being. She swallowed hard as she heard Ranka calling her.

She had a bad feeling about this.

 

* * *

“Um, Kyoya-senpai,” Haruhi hesitatingly began as soon as the three of them were settled down. “Why are you here?”

“Because of Ranka-san, of course.”

“Right. And my father asked you to come because –?”

“Haruhi, it isn’t polite to barge our guest with too much questions,” Ranka interrupted. “I’m going to make us drinks. Kyoya-kun, what would you like?”

“A coffee would be nice. Thank you very much.”

Ranka smiled at him before he left, humming quietly to himself. There was an awkward silence in the room as Kyoya and Haruhi were finally left alone.

“So,” Haruhi began, “about my –”

“I don’t really have too much time Haruhi, so let’s make this quick,” Kyoya suddenly said briskly, adjusting his glasses. He faced her, all business-like. Haruhi frowned. Kyoya sure is different when there are no other people to impress.

“As I have said to your father when I returned his call, there are no vacancies in our company right now. However, just last week, my secretary gave in her resignation and –”

“W-wait a minute.” Haruhi’s heart pounded. “Secretary? What is going on?”

“And,” Kyoya continued evenly, “I am desperately in need of one. Of course I am fully aware that you are over qualified for this job I’m offering, but I assure you, the compensations are worth it.”

She felt her head spinning as he continued to speak, but she couldn’t hear anything more. This was too much. She needed a minute to think, to gather her thoughts, because for a moment there, it just sounded like Kyoya wanted her to be his… secretary.

 _This is just a dream,_ she told herself, _no, a nightmare. And in the count of three, I am going to wake-up, alone in my room, lying on my bed, still being chased by that stupid laptop. One… two… thr –_

“All you have to do,” Kyoya’s voice droned on loudly in her ears. She opened her eyes reluctantly. She hadn’t even finished counting, darn it. “Is to sign this contract.” He took a folder from his briefcase and handed it to her. “You can read them for as long as you like, but I would need it before you can formally start working for me as my new personal assistant.”

 _Kyoya’s personal assistant._ God, that thought sounds even scarier than that news report of a mass murderer breaking out of jail. She opened the folder with slightly shaking hands. She let her gaze travel through it, her eyes getting narrower with every line. “Senpai. Isn’t this different from the usual contract of employment?”

“Well.” Kyoya’s eyeglass became clouded. “Since this is a special case, I had to change… some of conditions in there.”

Haruhi frowned at him before she returned her attention to the paper on hand. Her eyes jumped to the fine print at the bottom of the page.

_Failure to comply with any of the said conditions above gives the employer the right to –_

“I’m back,” Ranka announced as he settled a tray of mugs on the table in front them. He saw Haruhi reading the contract. “What is that?”

She tried to hide it from his view. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be shy. Let papa see it,” Ranka said as he reached out for the paper before Haruhi could keep it away from him. Haruhi inwardly groaned. She was kind of hoping she could knock Kyoya’s coffee all over it, or better yet, _accidentally_ throw it out of the window and wait for the neighbor’s dog to pick it up. Well. You never know.

“Memorandum of Agreement,” Ranka read aloud, “between Ootori Kyoya (hence will be referred to as _Employer_ ) and Fujioka Haruhi (hence will be referred to as _Employee_ ).” He looked at Kyoya. “But what do you need this for?”

“Everyone in our company are required to sign the contract,” Kyoya explained. “It is for both our protection, just in case one of us fail to meet the said requirements. I’m afraid even Haruhi is not exempted from it. However, I can change it if you want.”

“But why would you need protection from my daughter? She isn’t going to sabotage your company, Kyoya-kun,” Ranka said with a laugh. He looked at Haruhi. “Would you, Haruhi?”

There was a short silence.

“Of course not,” Haruhi finally said, nodding. Ranka beamed at her.

“I have no doubt that your daughter would do anything like that,” Kyoya replied in a tone that Haruhi felt sent a subtle message of ‘ _Just let me see her try’._ “And I personally don’t want to do this either, but rules are rules.”

Ranka frowned.

“Look at it this way, Ranka-san. As you know, every partnership would need a certain bond to keep them together, wouldn’t it? In our situation,” Kyoya gestured at the contract on Ranka’s hand, “it would be that one.”

Ranka fell silent for a moment. “Like,” he said slowly, “like a marriage contract?”

Haruhi’s head suddenly turned at him. Where the hell did that idea came from? She twitched.

“Yes. Exactly. Just like a marriage contract,” Kyoya agreed pleasantly.

Haruhi quickly glared at him. _Suck-up,_ she thought darkly.

Ranka’s face brightened. “Oh! Well, what are we waiting for?” And before anybody could react, he suddenly grabbed the pen that lying on the table and quickly signed his name with flourish. Then, he did the same with the other papers after it. “There. Done,” he said triumphantly.

Silence.

Haruhi stared at the contract, the ink of Ranka’s signature gleaming under the sunlight. Her dad signed the contract. Without reading it. Without asking her.

Without. Reading. It.

The small apartment suddenly became eerily quiet. Ranka had the strangest feeling the room was getting darker, and the chilly air blew right past him. He looked around to see where the dark aura was coming from.

 _Maybe I should call for an exorcist later_ , Ranka decided as he peeked under the couch, _because Haruhi simply could not concentrate in this awful environment_.

Kyoya finally broke the silence. “Well,” he said calmly, taking the folder and leaving a copy of the contract on the table. “I guess that would have to be it. I’ll see you tomorrow in my office, Haruhi.” He got up and left. Ranka heard the door close after him.

There was a low, heavy breathing sound that filled the room.

“Dad.”

Ranka slowly looked at Haruhi whose face was shadowed by her hair. _Strange. My daughter is being surrounded by a dark aura,_ he thought. _What could possibly be wrong–?_

Haruhi stepped towards him. Ranka instinctively took a step back.

“You signed the contract,” she said softly. Ranka suddenly felt like many cold, sharp arrows to the heart were piercing him. “Did I tell you to sign it?”

He gulped. “H-Haru-”

“Did I?” she repeated softly.

Ranka winced. “No,” he whimpered. She moved closer to him again and Ranka sucked in his breath (wondered if it’s going to be his last), as Haruhi lifted her face to look at him. Her eyes flashed darkly.

“We are going to talk later,” she said hoarsely. Ranka nodded mutely. Haruhi turned, grabbed the contract on the table and left, shutting the door loudly. Ranka fainted and fell on the floor.

 

* * *

“Senpai,” she called loudly. Kyoya, who was just getting in the car, paused when he heard her voice. She finally reached him. “Senpai, this is a mistake. You can’t hold this against me,” she said, waving the contract in front him. “I did not sign the contract. My father did.”

“Yes, I know your father signed the contract. And your point is?”

She was slightly taken aback. “Well… that’s it. I did not sign this. I never asked for this job. The contract doesn’t mean anything.”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “Haruhi, could you read clause number 3 please.”

Haruhi blinked, feeling rather wrong-footed. She glanced down and began to read:

_Clause 3: Any member of the employee’s family, including relatives up to the third-degree, may sign the contract as long as within the presence of the said employee, and the contract, therefore, shall be considered valid._

Haruhi’s suddenly found it difficult to breath.

“So I guess, that means that the contract _does_ mean something, Haruhi,” Kyoya said blankly.

“B-But this is illegal,” she protested. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like this –”

“Are we going to talk about this again?” Kyoya asked, bored. “I already told you I changed a couple of things in there, so it is a _tiny_ different from the usual Contract of Employment.”

“Tiny? You changed the whole contract,” she practically shrilled. “You can’t do this.”

“Yes I can. May I point your attention to, ah, clause 17.”

She clutched at the contract in her hand. “Senpai, please don’t do this to me.”

“Do what? Help you? In case you haven’t noticed, Haruhi, this little stopover to your house could have caused me a lot of millions. I should be in my office, signing papers that would bring a lot of money to the company. But instead, here I am in your apartment, offering you a job that many others would have to grovel for.” Kyoya stared at her. “You do realize that I had to pull a lot of strings to get you in the company? Any sign of irregularity could bring the media feeding at our doorstep.”

Haruhi took a deep breath. “Yes, I appreciate the --- the favor that you are doing, but I already have a job. I’m a lawyer and I’ve already signed a contract with the law firm I’m working for, so yours wouldn’t count. We can go to any court if you like and – ”

“A job in a law firm?” Kyoya’s mouth twitched upward. “Ah, yes, the job that you used to have.”

“Yes,” she said in relief, glad that he had finally understood, “and I am very happy with – ” She paused. “Did you just say… the job that I _used_ to have _?”_

“I did, didn’t I?”

 _Oh God. Please no. He didn’t just – he couldn’t –_ “Senpai, what did you do?”

“I already talked to your previous employer and they agreed to let you go.” Kyoya raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t that hard, actually. I just had to… persuade them a little bit. I’ve already paid for the loss of your contract with them, so if you still don’t want to accept my offer, you might want to add me to the list of people you are in debt with.”

Haruhi gaped at him helplessly. She just couldn’t believe this man. Her dream of becoming a lawyer suddenly faded into nothing just because of a stupid paper that her father had signed. And all of it was the fault of the man standing in front her. Ootori Kyoya is the most sadistic, arrogant rich bastard that she had ever known. She honestly wouldn’t mind going to jail if it meant taking the life of someone like him. The world will be a better place.

“And before you accuse me of being a sadistic, arrogant rich bastard,” Kyoya deadpanned, causing Haruhi to twitch, “I am doing this to help you. I know you Haruhi, and I know that you wouldn’t accept my help. Beggars can’t be choosers and in your case, it’s literally speaking, so if you don’t want to take this offer I’m giving you because of your pride, then just think of your father. He obviously thought he was doing the right thing when he called me. Do you want to make him feel useless in this house again?”

“I never let him feel that way,” she retorted hotly.

“But that is exactly what he is feeling. Of course he wouldn’t share it with you. He doesn’t want to be a burden to you any longer. And yes, I _know_ you don’t consider him a burden,” he added when she started to open her mouth to speak, “but I’m simply telling you what he had told me.”

She breathed heavily, glaring at him. She did not know whether to believe him or not. If she thought about the situation practically, Kyoya’s offer was definitely tempting, but is it the right thing to do? Before she could decide, Kyoya turned and got in the limo. He rolled down the window as the driver started the engine.

“I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 10.”

“I never said yes.” She frowned.

Kyoya smiled at her. “Read the contract,” he instructed as the car pulled out and Haruhi stepped aside, “so you know what to do when you start working for me. And don’t forget the fine print. But as a lawyer, you should know that.” Then he was gone.

Of course she was going to read the fine print, she thought indignantly. She could have finished reading it if her father just did not grabbed the contract from her and signed it. She glanced down and jumped to the line at the bottom of the page. She began reading:

_FINE PRINT: Failure to comply with any of the said conditions above gives the employer the right to sue the undersigned of the contract, and to demand moral damages of five hundred million yen._

“500 million yen,” she yelped. “But that’s too much! He is the most – ”

And then she froze.

The image of her father signing the contract flashed through her mind. Ranka grinning excitedly. Ranka doing what he thought would be a lot of help to her. She did not sign the contract, that was true, but Ranka did.

“ _Yes, I know your father signed the contract. And your point is?”_

Ranka was the undersigned and he is the one that Kyoya can sue if Haruhi backs out from his offer or do something out of contract.

Well. Well _._ _Well_.

Haruhi inhaled sharply. Looked like she just officially became Kyoya’s new assistant.

 

* * *

The Ootori building that Kyoya manages was a big glass and steel office block. Haruhi took a moment to look at it before she walked up the stone steps. She stifled a yawn as she passed through the glass entrance. She had spent the whole night studying the contract but she had not yet found any loophole. It galled her that he could still manage to outwit her, even in the field of what she is supposed to be good at. She frowned. Well, she’ll just make sure she’ll find one and if that means studying the contract every single, waking moment of her life then –

“Excuse me? Are you looking for someone?”

Haruhi stopped and saw a security guard looking at her curiously. She walked up to him. “Yes, I’m looking for Ootori Kyoya’s office,” she said as she showed him her ID.

The guard checked it for a moment then typed her name in the computer. “Do you have any appointment with him? Because I cannot see your name under his schedule.”

“Well…” She paused. “I’m his new secretary, I guess.”

The guard suddenly looked up and stared at her. There was a flash of emotion that crossed his face. Haruhi blinked. He was looking at her in pity.

“Third floor, turn right. His office is at the end.”

“Okay, thanks.” Haruhi headed for the elevator.

“And ma’m?”

Haruhi glanced back. The guard hesitated then took off his cap, placed it on his heart and looked at her solemnly. He looked like one of those soldiers in a military funeral, Haruhi thought.

“Good luck.”

 

* * *

Kyoya was already waiting for her outside of the elevator when she stepped out of it. He looked at her inquiringly. “You came.”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“I thought you had already found a way to get out of the contract,” he said blankly, “you know, being the brilliant lawyer that you are.”

Haruhi twitched. She had barely stepped in his office for five minutes and he’s already mocking her. He must have known that she wouldn’t find any loophole. _I’ll show him_.

“Anyway, since you’re here we might as well start working.” He led her through the hallway. She glanced around and saw rooms with glass windows with a lot of people working inside. “As I have mentioned to you yesterday, my secretary resigned a week ago and she left quite a bit of paper work that I was hoping you could begin working on.”

“Why did she resign, senpai?” Haruhi asked curiously.

“I’m not sure. But she did give me medical letters advising her to take a long break. Seems like the stress was too much for her to take.” Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “Which is ridiculous because I do not pressure my employees that hard.”

Somehow, Haruhi had found that difficult to believe. She was willing to bet that the workload of his secretary was not the reason for her stress. It was probably Kyoya’s fault. She nodded to herself. Definitely Kyoya’s fault.

Kyoya suddenly stopped walking. Haruhi stiffened. Damn. She forgot he could read minds. Is she going to get fired before she could even begin working?

“Haruhi.”

“Yes, senpai?” _Maybe I could still get my separation pay_ , she thought hopefully.

Kyoya gestured at the desk on the corner where two piles of papers sat. “That would be your desk. My office,” he pointed at the room beside her table, “is there.”

“Oh.” Haruhi nodded.

“I think you know what to do. You’ll be answering the phone, you’ll be taking care of my visitors, fixing my schedule, do paper works, et chetera, et chetera… And of course, make my coffee. I want a black one, no sugar and be stirred counter clockwise. I will not accept anything else.”

“Right.”

He pushed his glasses up. “And one more thing. I do not take favorites, Haruhi. The fact that we were in the same school before doesn’t mean I’m going to cut you slack. I want only the best in this company and anything that falls out of my expectation will have to answer to me.”

“I understand,” she replied. Briefly, she now knew why Kyoya’s secretary resigned. She wondered if she should do that too, like, right now while she still has her sanity with her. But she knew she couldn’t. “I always give my best in everything that I do.”

“Good.” He paused. “You know, being my secretary would mean that you have to be with me all the time.”

Haruhi shuddered.

“And I forgot to ask you whether you already have a passport. Because you might also need to come with me abroad.”

“Oh.” Haruhi shook her head. Kyoya sighed.

“Never mind. I’ll go ask my men to fix it.” He glanced at the tall piles of paper on Haruhi’s desk before he turned to her. “So. Shall we get started?” he asked, a wry smile on his face. Haruhi swallowed hard, said a silent prayer before nodding.

 _So,_ she thought as she followed him to his office, _this is what selling your soul to the devil feels like._


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

* * *

_Clause 12: The contract will be considered null and void as soon as the employee has finished working off the amount of what the employer invested on her (including taxes, allowances, the money borrowed by the employee’s father, or any equipment/furniture that the employee had broken, lost or caused malfunction in its operation)._

_Clause 12.A: If the employee wishes to extend her stay in the company, she may do so after signing a new contract with the employer._

* * *

In the past two weeks that Haruhi had been working for Kyoya, she realized that not everything was as bad as it seemed. Ever since she became his assistant, she was learning things that she would never had found out if she were in her previous career. Like, _one_ : she never knew that some people could actually taste the difference between a coffee that was stirred clockwise from the one that was stirred counter clockwise. (Kyoya did.)

 _Two_ , Kyoya never arrives in the office before ten in the morning. It has been an essential knowledge to everyone who works for him not to call _(unless if it is extremely important)_ before the said time, if they value their lives and jobs. Messengers of early phone calls were known to be shot dead if they disturb the youngest Ootori from his sleep. Fortunately, Haruhi had not been in any situation that would have force her to call him. At least, not yet.

 _Three_ , the employees of the company were all pretty decent people with good hearts who were just unlucky to have Kyoya as their boss.

And _four_ , being Kyoya’s personal assistant really sucks. But still, Haruhi pondered thoughtfully, she could have been in a worse situation. Her father might be already in jail and she could be too, if she could not be able to pay all those people she’s in debt with. So, she guessed this would just have to do as of the moment.

Sometimes, Haruhi could not help but wonder if Someone Up There was watching and guiding her through these dark and difficult times because she honestly thought that it’s a miracle that she has survived this long. In fact, the only time that she actually had to talk and see him was when he asks for his coffee or when he wants her to do a report on something. Besides, Kyoya had, so far, been in a really good mood and had not been tormenting her for the past three days (a record by his standards) even if he does seem to enjoy doing that a lot, so she guessed not everything was lost for her. Come to think of it, she could add that to the list of things that she had learned

 _Five_ , Ootori Kyoya’s favorite hobby is tormenting people. Not that she didn’t know that before, but still, having it confirmed assured her that she was not merely paranoid.

“Haruhi,” Kyoya’s voice came over the phone’s speaker. Haruhi quickly cleared her mind and focused her attention on the stapler in front her, just in case Kyoya can pick up brain waves through analog devices as well. “Could you come in here for a moment?”

 _Right. The start of a new, bright day,_ she thought wryly. She got up and went inside his office. “Senpai, you called – ” Haruhi stopped in her tracks as her gaze fell on a frame that hung just behind Kyoya’s desk. She stared as she realized what it was.

“Kyoya-senpai,” she said, twitching, “what is my contract of employment doing on your wall?”

Kyoya glanced at it for a second before he returned to his computer. “Ah, you noticed it.”

She exhaled sharply.

“I actually wanted to use the Rembrandt painting I bought last month but since I had an extra frame lying around and seeing as this room seems to be in need of a cheer, I decided to have my men place your contract on a frame and to hang it on the wall instead. It’s nice isn’t it?”

He chose to torture her over displaying Rembrandt’s painting? How lovely. She gritted her teeth. “It’s supposed to cheer people up?”

“Yes.”

“Like who, may I ask?”

Kyoya eyes slowly flicked towards her. “Like me,” he said calmly, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyway,” he pushed a thick folder towards her on the table, “I was wondering whether you could do a report on this one. You can pass it tomorrow.”

Knowing that she couldn’t do anything about Kyoya’s new display on the wall, she slowly took the folder and shuffled through it, frowning. She took a deep breath. “You know, senpai, I’m not really good at these kind of things,” she admitted. “Maybe if you could just ask me to do other stuff, like – ”

The sound of typing stopped. Kyoya raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you complaining about the type of work I’m giving you?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “no.” Haruhi crossed her finger behind her back. _Actually, I am._

Kyoya watched her as he leaned back on his seat. “Haruhi, if you’re worried about the quality of work that you are doing, then you must know that I am impressed with what you have shown me so far. In fact,” he raised an eyebrow, “are you sure you don’t want this… work arrangement permanent?”

 _Permanent?_ She shuddered inwardly “No, senpai. I don’t.”

“Really?” He paused. “Even if I, let’s say, double your salary?”

 _Double it? But…_ Haruhi blinked, mentally computing, _that would be more than what I’ll be earning in the law firm for 5 months._

“Or, I don’t know,” Kyoya continued, watching her intently. “Triple it, if I’m feeling generous enough.”

 _Triple? Wow, that’s –_ Haruhi paused. Wait, Kyoya? Generous? That doesn’t sound right. She looked at him and suddenly she frowned. He’s baiting her, wasn’t he? Waiting to see if she’s going to fall for his trap?

“No,” she said. “I appreciate all the favors that you have done for me, but I did not study law for many years just to end up being your assistant. In fact –” She straightened up. “ _In fact_ , I’ll be handing my resignation as soon as I’ve worked off everything I owe you.”

Silence.

Kyoya raised an eyebrow. “Resign? You are aware that there is a monetary condition that is required if you do that”

“Well, I’ll just have to work off the required payment then. And as soon as I’ve paid everything, I’ll leave.”

“You’re going to work off the required payment? I wonder how long before that happens.”

She twitched. “Besides,” she continued, trying to ignore his comment, “I don’t really understand why you would want me to continue working for you. I don’t think you would have a hard time finding a new secretary. With all your… convincing power and all.”

Pause. “You’re right. I’m sure I can find someone else who wants the job more than you. Someone who would really appreciate all the favors that I have done to keep them in their work. It’s just that I made a promise to your father and I wouldn’t be the one to break that.”

Well, if Kyoya’s trying to make her feel guilty, it’s not going to work. She held the folder tightly in her arms. “I’ll be outside if you need me,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Her back was already aching from typing Kyoya’s stupid report and she leaned back on the chair, closing her eyes. She never knew it was this hard to be a secretary. She was not sure if it really was difficult to become one or it’s just because she’s working for Kyoya. She massaged her neck gently, trying to loosen up her tired muscles. Her gaze fell on her watch.

11:45

Her heart jumped. She had always loved this time of the day, because in roughly fifteen minutes, she would be having her lunch break. For one glorious hour, she will be away from this desk, away from this computer and most especially, away from Kyoya.

 _Ah, happy thoughts._ She smiled gleefully.

The phone rang and she picked it up. She wondered what she should eat for lunch. The food in the canteen were a lot expensive than the one she used to buy in the law firm, but it was all worth it. Everything looks absolutely heavenly. Her stomach grumbled in agreement. She wondered if she should buy that chocolate cake for dessert. Maybe it’s okay to indulge herself once in a while, isn’t it?

“Hello,” she greeted pleasantly.

“Haruhi, why the hell did you turn the speaker off? I’ve been trying to contact you.”

Not even Kyoya can destroy her mood.

“I’m sorry senpai. I must have pressed the button by mistake.” _Accidentally on purpose_ , she added silently. She glanced at her watch again. Five more minutes. She smiled. “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked smoothly.

“I just received an email from my father, asking me to go to a sponsored exhibition of his friend in the museum. He can’t make it, so I’m going to go instead.”

An afternoon without Kyoya? Oh, this day is just her lucky day. She stifled a chuckle. Instead, she reached for her memo pad and wrote what Kyoya had said.

“Right,” she said as she finished writing. “Anything else?”

“Yes. I want you to come with me.”

Haruhi stopped. She checked the phone cord, wondering if it got cut off or something. She must have heard wrong. No, come to think of it, she must be really hungry for her to be hearing things. “I’m sorry. There was something wrong with the line. What were you saying?”

She heard him sigh. “I said I want you to come with me. Bring the report you finished yesterday just in case the business deal comes up. At least, we are prepared.”

 _No._ This can’t be happening. An afternoon _with_ Kyoya?Haruhi blinked. “You want me to come with you?” she echoed. “B-but, senpai, my sanity - my mental health –”

“Your what?”

“I mean, my lunch break,” she panicked wildly, “I - need – to – have - my - lunch - break!”

“They’ll be serving free lunch,” he said patiently. “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Don’t forget the report.” And before she could protest any further, he had hung up.

Haruhi sat still very quietly, the phone still on her ear. Her one hour of freedom… her one, measly hour of complete sanity… She closed her eyes painfully.

Someone Up There must have had a change of heart.

* * *

“This is fun,” Haruhi muttered under her breath, thirty minutes later as they walked through the hallway of the museum. She ignored the curators who gave her disapproving looks because of her casual attire. Its not like it was her fault she’s dressed that way. Kyoya did not exactly inform her of their iterany for this day beforehand, did he? But she couldn’t help but wonder that Kyoya might be expecting this little trip. He had changed into an expensive black Armani suit, the one that he always wore during important meetings.

“Don’t say anything blunt to anyone we meet, Haruhi,” Kyoya was saying as they turned around the corner. “The last thing I’ll need is to have diplomat problems right now. This afternoon is very crucial to me and to the company. Having Matsumoto-san’s backing for this expansion project is important or my father will never agree to this.” He paused, eyeing her. “Better yet, just don’t talk to anyone.”

Haruhi frowned at him, feeling as if Kyoya had somehow insulted her. “I ‘m not allowed to speak now? I don’t remember that part in the contract, Kyoya-senpai.”

“It’s not part of the contract, but still –”

“Ootori-kun,” came a booming voice behind them. A burly, white-haired man with grinned at him and Haruhi thought he looked like a cheerful bear. She opened her mouth but Kyoya gave her a quieting glance. Kyoya pushed his glasses up and a charming smile crossed his face.

“Matsumoto-san,” he greeted, shaking hands with him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My father sends his regards –”

“Ahhh,” Matsumoto waved him off. “That father of yours should take a break sometimes. He’s always working, that old dog.” He chuckled at his own joke before eyeing Kyoya. “But you. Look at you now. It seems just like yesterday when you were just a little boy, playing around with that laptop of yours. Are you working for your father, then?”

“Yes.”

Matsumoto nodded solemnly. “Ah, that’s a good boy. You should learn how to run the business as early as now. You are, I assume, still planning to head the Ootori Empire?”

Haruhi felt Kyoya stiffened slightly but he gave no indication of any discomfort. Instead he bowed slightly at Matsumoto. “I’m pleased to be in my father’s service, whether in the Head Office or not. We Ootori have always valued the importance of perfection wherever and whenever we are.”

Matsumoto laughed and gave a fatherly pat on Kyoya’s shoulder, causing the younger man to blink. “You really are Yoshio’s son, my boy. Very polite. And now, who’s this?” He suddenly turned and looked at Haruhi.

Kyoya straightened up. “This is my new assistant, Fujioka Haruhi. She just began working for me –”

“Well I’ll be,” Matsumoto exclaimed, squinting at Haruhi. “Fujioka Haruhi, eh? Are you that lawyer who handled the civil case of the Agrarian farmers? I was impressed with they way you won that case. Really impressed.”

Haruhi blinked. She glanced at Kyoya, wondering if it was okay for her to speak and he gave a curt nod. “Yes. That was the last case I handled before - before I began working for Kyoya.”

“Oh? You changed careers? How come?”

She pursed her lips. Talking about it brings back a lot of bad memories. “Because my father –”

“-Is a very good friend of mine and he asked for a tiny favor to help her daughter,” Kyoya cut in, smiling. “It’s a long story, but who am I to refuse a friend in need?” Haruhi frowned at him. That wasn’t what she wanted to say, that lying bastard.

“So you’re not going to going back to law anymore?” Matsumoto asked and Haruhi turned her attention back at him. “You will be a great loss to that business, young lady.”

“Oh. I’ll be back. Being a lawyer is what I have always wanted to do since I was young,” she said. “As soon I paid off every-”

“Ah, Haruhi, look. They started serving food,” Kyoya said, adjusting his glasses. He gestured at the other side of the hall. “I know you’ve been working really hard and I don’t want you to miss your lunch just because of me so you can go ahead.”

Haruhi stared at him. Kyoya smiled at Matsumoto.

“She’s always working hard, sometimes I think she’d forget to take care of herself,” he confided, a concerned look on his face. Matsumoto shook her head.

“Fujioka-san, you should be lucky Kyoya-kun here is a very understanding person, but you should also take care of your body too,” Matsumoto said gently. “You should be thankful Kyoya’s looking after your well-being. Not all employers can be this kind.”

Haruhi twitched.

“We’ll just meet you later, Haruhi,” Kyoya said pleasantly as he and Matsumoto started to walk towards the main exhibit room. “You go ahead and have fun.”

 _Have fun, huh?_ Haruhi rolled her eyes and turned around. That wouldn’t be any problem if people would just leave her alone.

* * *

_Clause 13: In the event the employee still wishes to resign before the contract ends and it is with the employer’s consent, she is obliged to pay the contract fee of eight hundred-fifty thousand yen (850,000 yen) and to wait the standard fifteen (15) days before she can formally leave the company._

_Clause 13.A: It is up to the discretion of the employer to accept the said resignation or not._

* * *

“Hello,” a young man greeted behind her as she headed for a table. She turned. He smiled and offered his hand. Haruhi glanced at her hands, her left carrying a plate, while the other holding her drink. She reluctantly put down her glass of punch and shook his hand. “I’m Keiichi by the way. Media,” he said as he showed her his ID. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before.”

“Haruhi. And yes, this is my first time here.”

“So,” Keiichi gestured at the other side of the room, where the paintings were displayed. “You’re into art?”

Haruhi followed his gaze but got distracted by the seven-layer cake that was being pushed from a cart to the table on the side, each layer decorated with colorful designs. She stared.

“I mean, no offense to all these dead people, but it’s not like your life will change if you stare at their paintings for a whole hour, isn’t it?” Keiichi said as he wrinkled his nose at a canvas near the door.

Haruhi glanced at her plate and wondered if she could get the strawberry-flavored part on the second layer.

“I’ve never liked museums, you know,” he continued enthusiastically, “but we’ve got a new boss and he wants to try a different angle for our paper. Which is stupid, if you ask me. We’re tabloid writers, not literary magazines. Our readers don’t care whether an artist made a picture or not. They want to read about scandals and gore and-”

 _Should I just go there and cut a piece?_ She wondered. She looked around. No one seemed to have noticed the cake. Are they just ignoring it or no should go get one yet?

“- do you, Haruhi-san?”

She blinked. She looked up at him. _Damn._ She forgot who she was talking to. What was his name again? It has something to do with food, wasn’t it? What was it again? Kitchen… no, Kitkat? That was stupid… Kin.. Kei…

“Haruhi-san?”

She smiled and nodded. “Absolutely,” she agreed, although she has no idea what he was talking about, least of all his name. His face brightened and he looked at her curiously.

“Oh, you do? You like scandals too? What kind?”

 _What the hell is this guy talking about?_ “Um… you know, the usual.” She tried to casually walk towards the cake but he followed her still.

“Maybe you’ve read my works? I think I’m a pretty good writer, to tell you the truth,” he said proudly, walking beside her. _Why can’t he just stay where he is?_ She frowned.

“Eh? Oh. I guess your works are really… interesting.” She reached the table and took a glance around. No one looked like they were going to stop her so she greedily reached out and cut a large piece of cake and placed it on her plate.

“Really? I’ve never met anyone who liked my writings before!” She took a bite and a heavenly smile filled her face. Keiichi beamed back at her. “Can you give me suggestions on how I can write better?” he asked hopefully. “Not that I need tips or anything… but, just in case?”

“Just keep on doing what you want to do,” she said absently as she eyed a tray of scallops. Then, following her own advice, she walked towards it.

“Eh? You think so?” Keiichi asked as he followed her again.

“Oh yes.” She began to fill her plate with generous heaping of scallops.

“You know, that’s what I keep telling myself too,” he said. He smiled as he leaned back on the wall. He nodded to himself before he finally focused on her. He glanced at her full plate. “Wow. You look famished.”

“I need a lot of energy for my job,” she said, chewing.

“Really? What do you do?”

She thought about it. “I have to make coffee that should be stirred counter clockwise or else my boss would make me do it all over again, type a five-page report and hand it over in a couple of hours, go to social events that I have no idea what they are about when all I want is just to stay in the office and finish my paper works, deal with the constant blackmailing from my employer and, try not to do anything out of my contract with him if I don’t want my father to be in jail.”

He whistled. “That sounds like a job from hell,” he commented.

“I know,” she said, taking a sip from her punch. “I’m a secretary.”

“Oh.” He blinked and took a sip of his drink too.

Haruhi grabbed another cup of the drink. It tasted a bit weird and it has this bitter after-taste. But she really feels good drinking it, like there’s a warm sensation down her throat and into her stomach. She gulped it down.

“So who do you work for? I can write an article about your boss, if you like. Tell the world what kind of man you are working for. Then you’ll get your revenge.” He grinned.

Haruhi paused. “Well, he’s the most arrogant, rich bastard I’ve ever met and I think he really enjoys seeing people in distress and even adds to their problem if they’re not being miserable enough. But he is still my employer and I am bounded by law not to say anything bad about him so I would have to refuse your offer.” She calmly took a sip, before smiling at him. “But thanks anyway.”

He stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back in laughter. “You are funny.”

She looked at him in confusion. She blinked and then, suddenly, something clicked at the back of her mind. “Wait a minute. You’re not hitting on me are you?” she asked worriedly. She looked anxiously around her.

“Excuse me?”

“Or flirting with me? Trying to catch my attention?” She widened her eyes at him.

Keiichi stared at her. He scratched his neck for a moment. He had always been unsuccessful in his love life and here’s a woman who’s openly asking if he likes her. She’s not that bad, actually. She’s really pretty too, if you can get past the attitude. Feeling lucky about the sudden weird change of events, he leaned towards her casually. “Now that you mentioned it, you are quite interesting, and I’ll be free tonight so I was wondering if –”

“Because you’re going to get us both in trouble if you are,” she continued, not listening as her forehead creased in worry. “Clause 21 says that if he catches me trying to enjoy the company of other men during office hours and having discussions that are not related to work and business, I’ll be violating the contract.” She paused. “And you’ll be incurring the same punishment too, I guess, so if you don’t mind –”

“Clause –? What?”

“Clause 21,” she repeated. “I really can’t afford any violation of the contract since I’m planning to resign soon, though of course now I have to think of how I can pay him the eight hundred fifty thousand yen for my release from his contract and –”

“Just – Just wait a minute,” he exclaimed. “Who with a twisted mind would think up of a clause like that?”

“My employer.” She hesitated, wondering if it will be out of contract if she answered him. “Ootori Kyoya.”

Silence.

“Ootori… Kyoya?”

She nodded. She drank her punch to calm her nerves.

“The youngest son of Ootori Yoshio? The one they say has the biggest chance of being the heir to the Ootori Empire?”

She took a sip of her drink before nodding. _This is really addictive_ , she thought, staring at her drink.

“I know him,” Keiichi said thoughtfully. “He’s the one who made my previous boss get kicked out of his job and from the country as well.”

“Eh?” She looked at him. “Why?”

“He misspelled Ootori Kyoya’s name in his last article,” Keiichi replied, shrugging. “My boss is really interested in him because we heard he’s a close friend of the Prime Minister and the Secretary of National Defense.”

She sputtered on her drink.

“And _not_ just the Prime Minister of Japan. I think he met those other Ministers in one of the Economic Summits that Japan is part of. There are also these stories going around that he holds a lot of contacts inside Pentagon, FBI, CIA and the KGB,” he continued conversationally, counting with his fingers. He frowned and thought hard. “And that he’s got this major influence, the White House have reserved a special guest room for him whenever he comes to visit their country.”

She blinked, silently praying that she will never get into Kyoya’s bad side. And just to be sure, she’ll avoid going to America from now on. Or Russia. Or any other country with Prime Ministers and FBI in them. Come to think of it, maybe it’s a good idea not to get out of Japan at all. Or her apartment. Or her bedroom. Or –

“Hey,” he squinted at her, “is it true that there’s a torture chamber in his house?”

She swallowed hard. “I –I certainly hope not,” she said, worried about her health and safety.

“But,” Keiichi said brightly, “those are all just rumors, I suppose. I don’t think any of those are even true. I mean, what kind of man would he be, right?”

Haruhi gulped down her drink nervously. _Ootori Kyoya and his special friends._ She hoped she would never get to meet them. Keiichi glanced at the pile of empty plates beside Haruhi.

“No wonder you need energy,” he said sympathetically. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive.” Haruhi couldn’t have agreed more. Keiichi paused then his face brightened. “Hang on, is it true that he –”

“That he is standing right behind you?” came a low, dry voice just as a dark shadow fell over them. Keiichi and Haruhi suddenly stiffened.

 _Eeep…_ Haruhi shut her eyes painfully, asked for her mother’s protection before they slowly turned around. Kyoya pushed his opaque eyeglasses and smiled at them. Haruhi took a step back cautiously.

“I didn’t know my social life was that fascinating,” Kyoya said, amused. She opened her mouth to speak but found her voice missing. Kyoya wasn’t waiting for her answer though, and instead he glanced at Keiichi. “Tanaka Keiichi-san, we’ve never been introduced before but it’s really flattering to know you have such interest in my life. How is your family? Are they still in Kyoto? How about your sister Yuki?”

A pause, then - “How did you know about them?” Keiichi asked, suspiciously. Kyoya adjusted his glasses and smiled at him. A soft, guileless smile that you would see on an innocent 7-year old boy when asking _Mommy, is Santa Claus real?_

“I _always_ make it a point to know,” Kyoya deadpanned.

There was a short, cold silence. After what seemed like forever, Keiichi suddenly turned at Haruhi. “Well,” he said in an unusually bright voice, “it was really nice to be discussing… business with you, Haruhi-san. And the, um, work-related issues we talked about are really, er, inspiring. But I do have to go.” He bowed at Kyoya who slightly nodded back before hurrying away from them.

Kyoya pushed his glasses up. “Well, that was fun,” he remarked.

“You shouldn’t have threatened him, Kyoya-senpai,” Haruhi reproved gently, still standing away from him. She frowned at him. “We were just having an innocent conversation.”

“ _I_ was making conversation with him too. He was the one who rudely left before I could even finish.”

She sighed.

He glanced at her. “Matsumoto-san and I will be going upstairs to discuss the business proposal. Do you want to come or are you going to stay here?” He eyed the plate on her hands.

Not a hard choice. “I’ll stay.”

Kyoya nodded. “I’ll probably be back after an hour.” He paused. “Try not to break anything here, Haruhi. I don’t think you can afford to pay them if you do,” Kyoya said as he turned around.

Haruhi glowered at his back. As soon as he was gone, she put down her plate and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. She reached for her glass and poured herself a new drink. She’ll just drown herself in this tasty punch while Kyoya’s gone.

* * *

_Clause 15: The employee is required to accompany the employer in any business or social event that the employer deems necessary._

_Clause 15.A: In the event that the employee cannot come, it is up to the employer’s discretion if it will be considered as a violation of the contract._

* * *

“Haruhi.”

“…”

“Haruhi.”

“…”

“I’ve only been gone for an hour and you’re already slacking off?” came Kyoya’s voice. Haruhi raised her head from the table she was laying it on. She tried to peek at him from under one eye but the sudden brightness in the room momentarily blinded her. Her head felt like thousand insects were all drilling in her brain and her throat felt unusually dry. She tried to stand up but her knees gave way and she dropped back to the chair with a flop. Then, suddenly, she laughed.

“What,” Kyoya asked dryly, “is funny?”

Haruhi pointed at him and an unstoppable giggle escaped her lips. “Kyoya-senpai… you…” She hiccupped. “You… look…” _Hiccup_. “Look…”

“I look like what, Haruhi?” Kyoya deadpanned.

“Like someone wearing glasses,” she choked before bursting into giggles again. He raised an eyebrow.

“I fail to recognize the humor in that statement.”

“I know.” She wiped her eyes. “I do too,” she said forcefully as a couple of hiccups interrupted her.

Silence.

Kyoya calmly reached for one of the dozen empty glasses that was lying on Haruhi’s table and took a sniff at it. His gaze flicked towards her. “I don’t believe you’ve drank this much alcohol before. Don’t you have such thing as a spiked punch in your commoner’s culinary terms?”

“Al-coo-hull?” She hiccupped.

He adjusted his eyeglass before frowning at her. “I think we better get you back home. You’re a danger to yourself, let alone to this business deal on my hands. If Matsumoto-san sees you in this situation, he might regret signing the deal with me,”

“…”

“Haruhi?”

“…”

Sighing, Kyoya took his phone and began to dial. “Bring the car in front. We’re leaving.”

* * *

“Can’t you go any faster?” Kyoya said as they sat in the back of the limo a while later. He glanced at Haruhi who was sleeping beside him. “The car’s going to reek of alcohol the longer she stays here.”

“I’m doing my best, Kyoya-sama,” the chauffer replied. “We’ll be there in three minutes.”

Haruhi stirred. She moaned as her head hit the window she was resting on.

“Make it one,” Kyoya ordered. “I need to get back to the office as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kyoya pushed his glasses and narrowed his eyes at Haruhi. “I hope you realize what I’ve missed because of you, Haruhi,” he said, frowning. “This is the first time one of my employees dared to get drunk in my presence. This will go on your record.”

No reply. Kyoya pursed his lips. He reached for the briefcase in front him when the car suddenly made a sharp turn. Haruhi was thrown, like a rag doll, across the seat and against his arms. Her head drooped gently on his chest.

Kyoya blinked.

A tense silence filled the car and Kyoya found himself breathing in Haruhi’s sweet shampoo. Her hair nuzzled his chin and he – _Stay calm,_ he told himself, _stay calm –_ had the strangest urge to lower his head a few inches more to inhale her smell. But before he could do anything, the car suddenly screeched to a stop. The chauffer rolled down the tinted window that separated them.

“Kyoya-sama, we’re here–” The chauffer trailed off as he stared at the scene that greeted him. Kyoya’s eyeglasses became clouded but he calmly pushed it up.

“As soon as you’ve decided to stop enjoying this sight, you might want to help me carry her inside the apartment,” he suggested dryly. “And do another reckless turn like that and you’re fired.”

The chauffer blinked. “Of course Kyoya-sama. I apologize.”

And as the chauffer rushed out of the car, Kyoya glanced at the sleeping woman in his arms, trying hard to ignore the nagging sensation churning down his stomach.

* * *

Kyoya watched as his chauffer gently laid Haruhi on her bed. He glanced at the spare apartment key on his hand that Ranka had given him two weeks before ( _“But you’re like part of this family already, Kyoya-kun. You should take this. Haruhi wouldn’t even miss that,”_ Ranka had insisted, and besides, who was Kyoya to refuse?), glad that he was carrying it around when he did.

“There,” the chauffer grunted, straightening up. He looked at his boss. “Are we just going to leave her like this?”

“You go start the car. I’m going to write a note to her father.”

The chauffer nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Kyoya and Haruhi alone. Kyoya picked up a memo pad on Haruhi’s table and wrote a short explanation to Ranka. Kyoya paused as he was signing his name, then added as a post script: _Please tell Haruhi that she is not required to go to work tomorrow as I understand she’ll be having a major hangover. I shall ask my men to deliver a dozen roses here tonight, as an apology and hoping that it will help her feel better._

Kyoya reread the note, and nodded with satisfaction. _This would do_ , he thought. He tore the piece of paper and started to leave. Haruhi stirred, and grunted. He paused and watched her.

“Icaemo…” Haruhi moaned. Kyoya blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Icaemooee…”

Kyoya hesitated then cautiously walked towards the bed. Seriously, he can’t just leave her like this, can he? He bent over her. “Haruhi?”

“I can’t eat any more,” she moaned on his ear. He rolled his eyes. Does this woman ever think of anything else besides food?

“Don’t worry, no one’s going to force you to eat,” he said, feeling foolish for speaking to a sleeping (hungry) woman. Her eyes fluttered for a second then slowly opened, and Kyoya found himself staring at the most limpid brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi blinked groggily. “What are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth to answer, something along the lines of _You could have caused me a business deal and if Matsumoto-san backs out of this, I’m going to add this to your debt_ , _and, oh yes another thing, let’s add a couple of working hours for you next Monday for getting drunk which caused me to drive you all the way here,_ but the words died at the back of his mouth as his eyes fell on her lips - soft, red and strangely _tempting_. A flash of something hot coursed through his entire body.

“Senpai?” Haruhi sat up, rubbing her temples, but Kyoya was unable to move as he bent over her still.

Her breath smells not unpleasantly of alcohol, but there was something else there he couldn’t remember. And as he stared at her still sleepy features, he realized that he couldn’t exactly remember anything else. There was a loud buzzing sound that started in his ears, before it was filled with the loud pounding of his heart against his rib cage.

 _What the hell was happening?_ He wondered.

Haruhi suddenly reached out and clutched at his suit. Kyoya had to keep steady breaths for him to stay calm. She widened her eyes at him, almost invitingly, and it was all Kyoya had to do not to push her back on the bed with him.

“Kyo-” Haruhi began just as Kyoya slowly bent towards her, their faces barely inches apart. Her breath was warm on his face. But before he could further move his lips towards hers, she lowered her head on his chest and began to throw up.

Kyoya blinked. _WHAT THE –?_

Haruhi was throwing up. She was throwing up on his Armani suit that caused him thousands of dollars. He could only stare, frozen, as his mind drew blank and the only sound that could be heard was Haruhi’s retching.

_WHAT THE –?_

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slowly looked up at him. She blinked and a look of dawning comprehension filled her features. She met his stunned face before glancing down at the rag she was clutching on her hand.

 _Oh._ She blinked again. “Umm… This isn’t any rag, is it?”

A strangled sound escaped Kyoya.

The realization of what happened, or rather, of what she did, hit her like thunder. She took a shaky breath.

“K-Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi swallowed hard before she timidly met his gaze. For a while, there was silence. Cold, sharp silence that chilled her to the bone. She nervously eyed the vomit on his black suit, gulping.

“Is this going out of my salary?” Haruhi whispered fearfully.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Haruhi took a deep breath before knocking gently on Kyoya’s office.

“Come in,” came Kyoya’s reply.

She hesitated then shrugged. _Better get over this now._ She pushed opened the door and walked inside. Kyoya was busy typing on his computer and merely gave her a fraction of an acknowledging glance before he returned to his work.

“Kyoya-senpai,” she began. “I made this for you.” She stepped forward and placed a bento box gently on his table. He glanced at it for a moment.

“Is that meant to be your peace offering for the stupidity that you made the other night?” he asked.

_This is it._ Haruhi inhaled deeply. Her make or break chance, the opportunity to save her soul from his swift vengeance from hell. “About that, senpai. I wanted to apologize - ”

“Of course you would,” he cut in dryly. “But did you really think that a homemade bento box by a commoner would make me forget everything that has happened?” He paused and eyed her offering. “And it’s pink,” he observed.

“I know. I thought it would lighten up your mood.”

He flicked his gaze at her. “Do I look like someone who would enjoy being presented a pink bento box?”

“Well, no,” she conceded. “But the point is, I know what I did was something really… unpleasant. That’s why I’m here to say sorry. And to tell you honestly, I’ve been losing sleep because of that incident,” she said, deciding not to mention the fact that the reason why she couldn’t sleep was because Kyoya kept appearing in her dreams, threatening her that she’ll have to work for him for her entire life, serving as his secretary. Because frankly speaking, she doubt anyone can still sleep soundly with that nightmare.

“I didn’t really know that the punch was spiked. If I did, I wouldn’t have drank it in the first place,” she assured him. “But what’s done is done. And I’m prepared to take all the responsibility for the trouble that I have caused you.”

The sound of typing stopped. “All responsibility?” Kyoya repeated slowly.

Haruhi hesitated. There was something sinister with that glint in his eyes. “I… um, yeah. I guess.”

Kyoya finally raised his gaze from the computer monitor and looked at her for a moment. “Actually I’ve been thinking about this, Haruhi. I know you didn’t mean to get drunk or to throw up on me. You’re not that irresponsible.”

Haruhi paused, blinking at him. She never realized it before, but Kyoya can be a really understanding person when he wanted. She nodded hopefully.

“Because if we think about it, only a stupid and reckless person would dare get sick on his employer’s best suit.” Kyoya pushed his glasses. “And obviously, you’re not a stupid and reckless person.”

“Ah,” Haruhi said slowly. “Right.”

“Naturally, you’re also not the type to purposely sabotage a very important business deal that I have been waiting to happen in the past months,” he continued conversationally. “Nor would you deliberately try to taint an Ootori’s reputation by getting drunk in public. That would be out of character for you, wouldn’t it, Haruhi?”

She cleared her throat, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him, or push him out of the window. “Of course, senpai. You know I have the Ootori’s best interest in heart,” she said, somewhat forcefully.

“So, as a compensation for the trouble you’ve caused me, I decided to get from your salary the payment for my new suit.”

“So what else is new?” she muttered under her breath.

He raised his eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Right,” she replied quickly, nodding. “That’s okay.”

Kyoya regarded her for a moment before he tore a piece of paper and wrote something down. “The cost was this,” he said as he pushed the paper across the table. Haruhi squinted at it and sucked in her breath.

“That much?” she squeaked. “But senpai, that’s like two months’ worth of my salary!”

“I know,” he said regretfully. “That’s why I decided to get just half of your salary every month, until you have completely paid the expenses. I know you have a lot of debts to pay for and I am a considerate person. And don’t worry. I’ve already included the interest in there.” He gestured at the paper before grinning at her. “I’m really sorry we have to come to this.”

_He doesn’t look sorry_ , she thought gloomily as she stared at his pleased features. Her shoulders slumped lifelessly. “Should you really buy a new one? I mean, paying for the cleaning would be much cheaper, isn’t it?”

“Like I would wear clothes that had been filled with vomit,” he said dryly. “No thank you. Besides Haruhi, it wasn’t just any suit. It was my favorite and it’s Armani.”

She closed her eyes painfully as she felt her physical strength leaving her body. Her head pounded furiously and she could feel a headache coming on.

Seriously. Wasn’t the reason why Kyoya offered this job was to help her pay all the money obligations she and her father have? Then why, she wondered, was her list of debts growing even longer?

_Damn this rich bastard,_ she thought darkly. _And whoever that Armani is._

“By the way Haruhi,” Kyoya began as if the thought just occurred to him.

Haruhi opened her eyes reluctantly and straightened up.

“I was wondering. Do you remember anything that night? Besides you throwing up on me, that is.”

She frowned. “Something happened besides me throwing up on you?” she asked.

Kyoya’s glasses clouded.

She cupped her chin as she thought hard. “I don’t know,” she hedged thoughtfully. “All I could remember was waking up and talking to you.”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses.

“And,” she continued, her face filled with concentration as she tried to remember the past events, “you were sitting on the bed with me.”

Kyoya’s eyes bored intently at her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“And I asked you what you were doing there and –” Her eyes widened, and complete shock registered in her face. Haruhi met his gaze with her wide brown eyes. She wore an alarmed expression on her face.

“Oh God.” She blinked. “Did I throw up on your car too?” Haruhi asked in horror.

Kyoya blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s what?”

“That’s all you remembered? Nothing else after you talked to me?” He eyed her warily.

“Well, yes.” She looked at him hopefully. “That didn’t happen, did it? Because I couldn’t remember anything else, besides that suit of yours.”

Kyoya opened his mouth then paused. He seemed to be thinking hard. “Well no,” he said slowly. “But the car reeked of stupid alcohol after I brought you home. Do you know how much the car cleaning cost me?”

Haruhi swallowed hard.

He pushed his glasses. “But as I’ve said, I’m a considerate person. And… I’ve already included the expense for the car cleaning from the cut in your salary. So don’t worry about it.”

She paused. “Oh. That’s good. I think.”

“I would also appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone about this incident.”

Why would she want to tell anyone that she’s in debt with Ootori Kyoya? “I promise.”

He raised an eyebrow. “After all, it wouldn’t be good for an Ootori’s reputation if others find out that an employee had thrown up on them.”

She nodded. “Of course,” she agreed. “Not good at all.”

Kyoya stared at her for a moment. “Very well. If you’ve got nothing else to say, you can continue with your work.”

“Right.” She nodded and turned around. As she stepped outside, she glanced back and saw Kyoya eyeing the bento box suspiciously. Haruhi blinked before she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Haruhi had barely sat down behind her desk when a loud ring interrupted the silence in the hallway. She glanced at the phone on her desk, wondering why the ring sounded different. She picked it up but all she could hear was the dial tone.

The ring continued.

Finally, she realized that the sound was coming from her bag and she hurriedly shook the contents on the table. A sleek, thin cellular phone rang again. She glanced at it as it continued to ring before she picked up a note that fell on top of the phone.

_To my beautiful daughter, Haruhi: Kyoya-kun wanted you to have this. I completely forgot to give it to you. Anyway, have fun at work! Love, Dad._

Haruhi blinked. She stared at the phone for a moment.

_Ring!_

She looked at the screen but the caller’s number was not saved in the phonebook so there was no name that flashed on the screen. She clicked the Talk button. “Hello?” Haruhi greeted cautiously.

“Haruhi?!” a loud voice screamed in her ear and she had to pull the phone away from her. “Haruhi?! Is that you, my precious daughter? Oh, thank God! You’re alive! Are you hurt? Are you feeling weird? Is there any part of your lovely body that feels any kind of pain? Tell me, Haruhi. Don’t be scared to tell your daddy! I am always here to help – ”

“Tamaki-senpai?”

“– you! Oh, the trauma! I know what you’re going through right now, Haruhi, and I assure you, we will get you to a doctor! I know a lot of specialist who can help you in this tragic moment of your life. We can call Doctor Hizashi, though – ”

“What are you talking about Tamaki-senpai? And how did you know this number?”

“ –he is in Kyoto right now, but I’m sure he’ll come right away. Should I send him the helicopter or would the submarine be faster for him? And doctor Lorry from London. I’m sure he’s willing to help us once he’s done with the plastic surgery he’s doing. You know, the poor man got his nose broken from falling down the stairs. Or –”

“Senpai?” Haruhi repeated, brow furrowing.

“-maybe we could call Doctor Xian in China. Or this new one I heard who’s really popular in America, doctor Dre. I heard almost all of the famous singers there know him. Anyway, I’m sure they’re going to come as soon as they hear you need help. Oh, I wish I can do more – ”

_Ring!_

“Excuse me senpai, there’s an incoming call,” Haruhi cut in and without waiting for any response, she pressed another button. “Hello?”

“Haruhi? Is that you?”

“Hikaru?”

“Is that Haruhi? I want to talk to her too.”

“Kaoru?” Haruhi frowned. Why are they all calling her? And how the hell did they know this number?

“See, I told you she’s alive,” Hikaru drawled.

Haruhi blinked. What are they talking about?

“Tono’s been exaggerating again,” Kaoru said and Haruhi could feel him rolling his eyes.

“Kaoru? What is going on?” Haruhi asked uneasily. “And how did you know this number?”

“Tono’s getting all obsessed when he heard the news,” Kaoru began. “He was really worried about you –”

“Yeah, he already arranged for your funeral party,” Hikaru sniggered.

“My what?” Haruhi asked blankly.

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Kaoru asked. “He –”

_Ring!_

“Kaoru, someone’s calling. I need to answer this,” Haruhi began.

“Oh, you don’t have to put us away. Is there an orange button on the side? Just press that. It can do at most six-way phone call,” Kaoru instructed. Haruhi slowly did as he said.

“Hello?” Haruhi said tentatively.

“Haru-chan! Are you all right?”

“Honey-senpai,” greeted Haruhi warily.

“Honey-senpai, did Tono call you too?” Kaoru asked.

“Oh, he called you too, Kao-chan? But Haru-chan sounds okay.”

“And apparently, she’s not going to die anytime soon,” Hikaru observed. He paused. “You are _not_ going to die anytime soon, are you Haruhi?”

“No. Would someone please answer me and tell me what’s going on,” Haruhi said. “And how did you know this number?”

“Did Tono call you already?” Hikaru wanted to know.

“Yes, and he was sprouting all these nonsense… Hikaru, why would I need to see a doctor?”

Hikaru snickered. “He thought you’re – ”

_Ring!_

Haruhi pressed the orange button again. “Hello?”

“…”

“Hello?” Haruhi’s forehead furrowed.

“…”

“Mori-senpai?”

“Mn.”

“Are you calling me to find out if I’m still alive?” Haruhi asked, exhaling sharply.

“Mn.”

“Well, I am. I hope that makes everyone happy,” she added to those who were listening on the line.

“Thank goodness Tama-chan was wrong, right, Takashi?”

“Mn.”

“Haruhi, what did Tono say when he found out you’re fine and you’re not yet going to die?” Kaoru asked curiously.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s probably regretting booking that fifty-piece orchestra for Haruhi’s interment,” Hikaru commented.

Haruhi shut her eyes painfully. If she could just close her ears too, then everything would be fine, but they continued to talk to each other and their words echoed awfully loud in her ears.

“So, does this mean I can have the cake I ordered for her funeral, Takashi?”

“Mn.”

“This is so fun,” Hikaru remarked. “And I was getting bored out of my mind, too.”

“Good thing Tono called,” Kaoru agreed.

“Usa-chan says he’s glad you’re fine, Haru-chan,” Honey continued cheerily.

“Why didn’t you tell us you need a job, Haruhi?” Hikaru asked in concern. “We could have hired you.”

“Yeah. We are in desperate need of a toy, right now,” Kaoru said seriously.

“Oh no, I think Usa-chan is getting hungry,” Honey said worriedly.

“Are you in debt with Kyoya-senpai again?” Kaoru asked. “Is that why you’re working for him?”

“Geez, you never learn, do you?” Hikaru observed.

“Haru-chan, would you like to go eat cake with us tomorrow? Takashi will come too.”

“Can we go to your house, Haruhi?” Hikaru and Kaoru suddenly chorused.

_That_ last question woke her up from her reverie. “No,” she snapped. “And before you go and start another game, I want to know what is going on.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Could I be the one to explain?” Honey volunteered excitedly.

She sighed with a patience of a preschool teacher. “Yes, senpai. You may.”

“Tama-chan called us all up and said that you were in grave danger,” Honey explained. “He said you didn’t came to work the other day so he was worried something bad happened to you.”

“And how did he got the idea that I was going to die?” Haruhi twitched.

“Why can’t we go to your house, Haruhi?” Hikaru persisted. “We promise we’ll be good. No breaking of tables, or chairs or any special furniture you like.”

“NO,” Haruhi snapped. “Honey-senpai, why would he think something bad happened to me?”

“Hikaru, I think you already said that before,” Kaoru said thoughtfully.

“Oh. I knew it sounded familiar,” Hikaru replied. “Was that when we destroyed her couch?”

“Uh, no. I think it was before that.”

“Honey-senpai?” Haruhi repeated through gritted teeth, completely ignoring the twins.

“We’ll bring lots of food,” Kaoru offered. “You like strawberries, don’t you Haruhi?”

“Kyo-chan said something about you throwing up on his suit. So Tama-chan worried and thought you have an incurable disease and you’re just keeping it a secret from us. And that you throwing up means you’re losing the will to eat and you’re going to leave us soon.”

Kyoya told Tamaki about the incident? Haruhi twitched again. _I thought no one should know anything about it._

“I have an incurable disease? Just because I threw up on Kyoya-senpai?” she asked in disbelief.

“So it’s true then? I never realized you’re so brave, Haruhi,” Kaoru told her.

“Or stupid. Who would dare throw up on Kyoya-senpai?” Hikaru wondered.

Haruhi closed her eyes.

“Anyway,” Honey continued sweetly. “I told Tama-chan that maybe you were just drunk, but he was worried about you and how Ranka-san could never afford to pay for your hospital bills when your illness becomes worse. So he booked a VIP room for you in one of Kyo-chan’s hospital. I think he was supposed to call you today to tell you.”

_Ring_!

But she wasn’t listening anymore. Haruhi’s mind whirled nonstop, faces floating in her brain like a computer shuffling through police mug shots, one profile after another, until it finally screeched to a deafening stop on a certain smirking face whose glasses were darkly obscure.

Match found: _Ootori Kyoya._ Haruhi’s eyes flew open.

Trust Kyoya to make Tamaki and his cronies to do the dirty deed of making her life miserable. _This is still part of his revenge at me for destroying his suit, isn’t it?_ Haruhi seethed. There was a moment of silence in which the four former hosts could feel her wrath and wisely shut up.

_That conniving rich bastard_ , Haruhi twitched.

_Ring!_

“I’m sure Tama-chan meant well,” Honey said cautiously.

_Ring!_

“Usa-chan agrees with me too.”

_Ring!_

“You know, Haru-chan, when I’m feeling bad I always like to eat cake with tea. It makes me feel so better,” Honey advised her wisely.

_Ring!_

“Would you like me to order right now –”

“Mitskuni,” came Mori’s grave voice. “She doesn’t want any cake.”

Honey fell silent.

_Ring!_

Haruhi pressed the orange button harder than she should have.

“What?” Haruhi snapped.

“Haruhi? Why did you hung up on me? Were you feeling dizzy? Do you want me to come there and – ”

“Tamaki-senpai,” she deadpanned. “I was just thinking of calling you.”

“Really?” Tamaki sounded pleased. “Yes, I’m glad you realized that you can trust me with these kind of things –”

“We need to go, Mitskuni,” Mori said.

“You’re right. Bye Haru-chan. I’ll call you soon. Usa-chan says bye too.”

“So, does this mean we can’t go to your house anymore?” Hikaru asked.

Haruhi’s low, heavy breathing resonated through the cell phone line.

“Okay, we’ll just call you later,” Hikaru gave in.

“Bye Haruhi,” Kaoru called. “And just so you know, it was Tono who started all this.”

“We’ll be sending you the dress that you were supposed to wear on your burial. It’s really nice,” Hikaru informed her before hanging up the phone.

“And we’re going to do everything we can to save you,” Tamaki was saying, “So don’t worry, Haruhi. I have taken care of everything. All you need to do is rest and take all the medications that will be prescribed for you and you’ll be fine in no time -”

“Tamaki-senpai,” she cut in. “I am not sick. I don’t have any incurable disease or anything like that.”

“You’re not what?”

“Sick.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Oh.”

She rubbed her temples in an effort to prevent a headache from coming in.

“But – But Kyoya said you suddenly threw up on him – ”

“Because I got drunk,” she replied blankly.

“Oh.” He thought hard. “So. So, you don’t have any grave illness that you’re just keeping a secret from us?”

“None.”

“And,” he asked again, still thinking hard, “you’re not going to die from it and leave us for a wonderful paradise beyond the rainbow?”

_Wonderful paradise - ?_ She twitched. “No.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Oh.”

Haruhi reached out and shut the phone speaker off. She had a feeling she would not want to be interrupted, even if it was Kyoya. “Tamaki-senpai, we need to talk.”

* * *

“So.”

Kyoya looked up from the report he was reading and raised an eyebrow at a seething Haruhi in front him. “Don’t you know how to knock?” he asked wryly.

Haruhi slammed her hands hard on his table. “So,” she repeated hoarsely, narrowing her eyes.

He adjusted his glasses. “I suppose Tamaki called you?”

The lethal glare that she gave him proved to be a very informative answer.

“Do you have any idea what it felt like to know that your cremation had already been arranged?” Haruhi asked in a deathly whisper. “Or to know that Tamaki-senpai was planning to put a 45-inch plasma screen in my supposed-hospital room so I won’t get bored? And to have people wondering what pose I would like for the shrine they’re going to make for me?”

“Tamaki did that?” Kyoya looked slightly impressed. “I must admit I didn’t even imagine the shrine part.”

She gritted her teeth as she straightened up.

“I was just concerned for your well-being,” he said amusedly, “which is why I told Tamaki what happened. I don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

Something in her snapped. “You told Tamaki-senpai about me throwing up when you knew very well that he was going to take it differently. You knew he was going to react that way and you didn’t try to change his mind. You probably even encouraged him with a couple of white lies. No, come to think of it, you’re probably even glad that he reserved a VIP room in your hospital. An additional profit to your business, isn’t it?”

Kyoya looked thoughtful. “It wasn’t that bad, actually,” he admitted.

“He’s preparing for my funeral party, for crying out loud,” she said exasperated. “He thought I have an incurable disease because he said there is no way a normal, healthy person would throw up on you. Hikaru and Kaoru already made a burial dress, Honey-senpai already ordered the cakes he’s going to eat on my internment and Mori-senpai actually called me to check if I’m still alive.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “All because of some stupid suit that I accidentally ruined. Is not cutting my salary off enough revenge?”

“Haruhi,” Kyoya said in an almost bored tone, “do you really want me to answer that question?”

She painfully shut her eyes and drew a sharp breath. “I should kill you right now,” she muttered under her breath. “Stab you three times in the heart, then cut off your larynx.”

He simply looked amused. “But of course you wouldn’t. As we both know, this building is full of my employees and the Ootori secret police. I doubt you can get out of this place alive if you try anything bad against me,” he helpfully informed her.

She breathed heavily. “What,” she asked in frustration, “will I do with you, Kyoya-senpai?”

“How about make me coffee?” he suggested. “I’m dead tired.”

She glared at him.

“Think of it this way,” he finally said, adjusting his glasses. “At least you won’t have to worry about paying for anything when you die.”

“You know, I am so lucky I have you as my boss,” she told him.

“Thank you.”

“I was being sarcastic,” she said, gritting her teeth.

He smiled at her. “I know.”

She sighed.

“While this is certainly an interesting conversation Haruhi, I’d like to remind you that you’re going with me later. There’s nothing to bring. I’ll drop you off to your house when we return,” he said as he went back to his work.

_Wha-?_ She looked at him in alarm. “We’re going out again?” she asked, barely concealing the distress in her voice. She hadn’t even gotten over this Armani incident, and she’s going with him _again_?

“Yes. And don’t worry. There’ll be no spiked punch in there. It will be an official business.”

“To where?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” He eyed her. “Could you make me my coffee now?”

Haruhi stared at him in disbelief. Didn’t he realize that she was mad at him right now? She twitched.

“Haruhi?” Kyoya raised an eyebrow at her.

She twitched again. “Right,” she said as she turned around. _Maybe I should put poison on his coffee,_ she suddenly thought wistfully, reaching for the knob. _That will put a stop to him. Heh._

“And don’t bother putting any poison on it,” he called, not bothering to look up from the report he was reading. “I’ll make you drink it first.”

She clenched her teeth, resisting the impulse to jump out of the window. “Right,” she repeated sullenly as she left the room.

* * *

Haruhi pressed her face against the tinted window as they sat at the back of Kyoya’s limo a couple of hours later. “Where are we going, Kyoya-senpai?”

“Just a little business trip.”

She watched as they passed a flurry of trees. She could tell they were far from the city. It looked like they were going to some remote province or village. “Are we going to meet Matsumoto-san again?” she asked.

“No. I just want to show you something. And hear your opinion about it.”

She cocked her head. “Hear my opinion?” she repeated.

He gave her a look before he returned his attention at the newspaper. Haruhi waited, and when she realized that he’s not going to answer, she shrugged and continued to watch the scenery outside.

* * *

“We’re here,” Kyoya said.

Haruhi blinked and realized that the car has stopped. The chauffer promptly got out and opened the door for Kyoya and Haruhi. When she stepped outside, she quickly took a look around.

They were in a park in the middle of a small, quiet neighborhood. Houses were lined up beside each other in a perfect symmetry. Even the gardens and backyard of each house were practically identical. There was a group of children running around, playing. And when she turned to the other side of the park, she saw a couple of mothers sitting on the bench talking to each other and keeping an eye on the kids.

“Where are we?” Haruhi asked. “What are we doing here?”

But instead of answering, Kyoya walked towards a tall building behind them that she didn’t notice. She quickly rushed after him. They walked through the glass door and she blinked as she realized where she was.

“What are we doing in a supermarket?” Haruhi asked as she watched a couple of people pushing carts.

“What do you do in a supermarket, Haruhi?”

“Huh?”

“What do you do in a supermarket?” he repeated patiently.

“To do shopping,” she replied, feeling confused. “For groceries, I suppose.”

Kyoya purposely walked towards the basket and cart section, got a shopping basket and went back to Haruhi. He handed it to her.

“What is this for?” she asked, staring at the basket.

“I want you to look around and do your shopping like what you usually do,” he instructed her. She looked at him.

“Eh?” She frowned at him.

“Go on,” Kyoya said. “Shop for whatever you need. And go wherever you want.”

She blinked. “You asked me to come with you here so I can… shop?”

“Yes.” Kyoya walked over to one of the couches situated on the corner. She followed him. “I’ll wait for you here. Take your time.”

This was… unexpected. She didn’t move and instead, she blinked at him. “I thought this was supposed to be a business trip. Why should I do my shopping here?”

“Take this,” he said, ignoring her question as he reached for his shirt pocket and handed her a gold credit card. She stared at it for a moment.

“What’s that?”

“You don’t have any money, do you?”

She paused. “Does that contain my salary?” Haruhi asked suspiciously.

Kyoya’s glasses clouded. “No.”

“Is this a trick? You want me to use that card when really, it’s going to be under my account and –”

“No, Haruhi. Just take it. I’m not going to add this to your debt, no matter how much you spend using this,” he wearily replied. “You should really cut down your caffeine intake. You’re getting all jittery.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “Senpai –” she began but Kyoya gave her a look and she reluctantly shut up. She still could not understand why she had to do her grocery in the middle of office hours, but Kyoya had already put out his cellphone and was beginning to dial on it. She frowned before she turned around to start her ‘shopping’.

* * *

When Haruhi returned almost an hour later, she saw Kyoya in deep conversation with a group of three people, all of whom were wearing business attire. One of them, the one wearing glasses, looked like he was explaining, and Kyoya was frowning at him. Kyoya caught sight of her just as she was wondering whether to wait for them to finish so she would not interrupt them. He pushed his glasses and motioned for her. The group fell silent as they watched her come nearer.

“Are you done shopping?” Kyoya asked, glancing at the small plastic bag on her hand. She nodded. He frowned at her. “I told you to buy everything you need. Is that all?”

She paused, wondering how to say it. “I didn’t find anything that I can use.”

“Excuse me?” The one who was talking earlier, the one wearing glasses, looked affronted. “This place is going to be one of the most high-class supermarkets in all of Japan. All of our products here have been imported from other countries. We sell only the best.”

“Uh, well,” she hedged. “That’s the problem. All of your products came from other countries, but that doesn’t mean that those are what the customers need. I mean,” she shrugged, “the prices of your products are outrageously expensive.” She glanced at Kyoya. “Senpai, you told me to shop like I usually do, so even if you gave me your card, I didn’t buy the things I saw here.”

“Expensive?” Eyeglass-man shook his head. “We have perfectly reasonable amounts for our products.”

“Can’t commoners afford the prices here?” Kyoya asked Haruhi. She shook her head.

Kyoya glanced at the young man standing beside Eyeglass-man and the young man took out a clipboard and started scribbling.

“You lack the necessities that people need,” she continued, not noticing the writing young man. “People want fresh fruits and vegetables. And meat too. You don’t have toiletries, cheap soaps and powders, instant noodles and coffee, cereals -”

“We have lots of Yubari melon cereals over there,” the third man with bleached blond hair – offered as he pointed to one of the shelves. Haruhi sighed.

“You only have one flavor of cereals and that’s melon,” she replied, blinking. “People want to choose from a lot of variety. That’s part of shopping. I don’t even know why you decided to sell that here.” She paused. “How long was this supermarket been open?”

Eyeglass-man stiffened. “Why are you asking?”

“Five years,” the blond man responded, watching Haruhi with interest. “Four from the previous owner. And now, a few months under our supervision.”

“Have you ever… put up a sale?” she asked.

“Sale?” The three men looked at each other. “No.”

“Well you should,” she said, thinking of her own experiences. “People like that. And maybe you should, you know, add some ‘extras’ too. You know, like bonus pen or something.”

“We have ‘extras’ too,” Eyeglass-man said. He suddenly showed her an envelope. “See, if they buy at least one million yen worth of groceries, we’d give them this ‘extra’ _Caribbean_ ticket for two!” He looked smug. “No supermarket had offered this before.”

She twitched. “And how could they afford the one million yen?” she muttered. “And a Caribbean ticket is too much.”

The young man scribbled wildly.

“I thought we’re selling what people want to buy,” the blond man mused.

“Well, maybe for rich people, they’ll definitely enjoy it here. But the ambiance of this place is…” She pointed at the entrance where a Rene vase was situated. “Like that one, for example. You shouldn’t put any expensive, delicate furniture around. Parents come with their children too, you know. And this place is filled with expensive objects. You might want to avoid that.”

“And the products?” The blonde man asked.

She paused thoughtfully. “Stick with ordinary, useful things. Mothers are usually the ones who do the shopping so you should know what are the things they need. I saw a lot of teenagers and children around, so you should be able to cater to them too.” She blinked. “That’s all. I guess.”

Kyoya glanced at the scribbling young man. “Did you get all that?”

“Yes, Kyoya-sama.”

“Very well,” Kyoya said. “I want this place closed for a week. Do the necessary renovations and changes –”

“But Kyoya-sama,” Eyeglass-man protested, “we’ve already been designing and arranging this place for the past six months. Are we just going to forget that and start all over just because –” He gestured at Haruhi rather rudely, “she says so?”

Kyoya glanced at her. “Haruhi, would you go here to do your shopping?”

“No,” she said truthfully.

“But Kyoya-sama –”

“Taichi-san,” Kyoya deadpanned. “If you really want me to choose between which opinion I would prefer to take, yours or Haruhi, you should be ready to be humiliated.”

Silence. Haruhi glanced at Kyoya wonderingly.

“I suppose that answers your question,” Kyoya stared at Eyeglass-man who stiffened. “I’ll come back here next week and I want to see improvements. If the profit doesn’t increase by thirty percent until next month, you are fired.”

Haruhi blinked.

“Do everything that she said,” Kyoya was saying to the remaining two men. “I’ll be expecting good news from all of you. Call me if there’s any problem.”

“Yes, Kyoya-sama,” Eyeglass-man replied sulkily.

“And one more thing,” Kyoya added. “I don’t want to receive any phone calls.” He glanced at Haruhi. “If there’s nothing else you want to buy, we better get going.”

Haruhi nodded and she followed Kyoya out of the supermarket. The car was already waiting for them outside and they got in immediately. Haruhi took a last glance at the building as they pulled out.

“I never knew your family owns a supermarket too,” she began cautiously after a long silence. Kyoya adjusted his glasses.

“We don’t. Not officially yet. And it’s not my family’s.” He raised an eyebrow. “Remember the expansion project I wanted to do with Matsumoto-san? This is just the beginning.”

She glanced at him. “You own the store, senpai?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know you were interested with dealing with commoners. I thought that you’re going to stick with the health business.”

“Let’s just say that you were the one who inspired me to do this,” he said.

A pause.

“Really?” Haruhi asked, blinking.

“I’ve learned that the most profitable activity comes from dealing with commoners like you,” he deadpanned.

“Ah,” Haruhi sighed. ”Of course.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “So, you brought me here to hear how a commoner would see your supermarket?”

He nodded. “You’re the perfect test case, Haruhi: an ordinary, not-so-important kind of a commoner. Exactly like the customers we’re going to have.”

“Ah.” She twitched. “I’m so honored to be of help to you, senpai.”

“What did you buy anyway?” he asked, gesturing at the plastic bag on her hand. She glanced at it.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She opened the plastic and took a small box of mint. She got one and offered it to him. Kyoya stared at her outstretched hand.

“What is that?”

“Candy. I know you don’t like sweets, but I think you need it.”

“Why would I need a candy?” Kyoya asked. Haruhi took his hand, forced it open and placed the candy on his palm.

“It’s really sweet, senpai,” she assured him. “This was my favorite brand when I was young.”

“And you think I would have the same taste as you,” he commented, raising an eyebrow. Haruhi shrugged before she popped a candy on her mouth before she stared out the window.

Kyoya stared at the candy on his hand that Haruhi gave him, then, lifted his gaze to look at her. For a while, he was silent as he thought hard. “I guess this would be the right time to say thank you,” he said reluctantly as his glasses clouded.

She turned around and blinked. “For the candy? You’re welcome.”

“No. For that little consultation thing you did.” He frowned. “And to think I’m paying those men hundreds of thousands to make that supermarket work but look at what happened.” He eyed her. “Maybe you deserve their salaries instead.”

Haruhi stared at him hopefully. “Really?”

Kyoya locked eyes with her for a moment before he adjusted his glasses. “That was a rhetorical statement. Don’t push your luck, Haruhi.”

Haruhi frowned at him. Kyoya’s phone rang and he turned his back at her to answer it. She sighed as she glanced outside the window.

* * *

Haruhi stepped out of the limo as they parked outside her apartment. She rummaged through her bag before leaning down on the window to look at Kyoya.

“Senpai, I think I should return this to you,” Haruhi said as she handed him the cell phone that she used this morning.

“That’s yours. I need to be able to contact you,” Kyoya replied. “Just bring it wherever you go.”

“Oh. Okay.” She glanced at it for a moment before she returned the phone in her bag. “Thank you.”

“That’s all right. That cell phone is the latest model out in the market so try not to lose it again or drop it in a manhole. It’s really expensive.”

“I will.” She paused. “How did you know I dropped my phone in a manhole?”

“And you don’t have to thank me. It would not look good for others to know that my personal secretary doesn’t even own a cell phone.”

“Right. How did you know I dropped my phone in a manhole?”

Kyoya pushed his glasses. “By the way, I took the liberty of using your salary for that phone.”

“Okay. How did you know I dropped -” Haruhi blinked as she realized what he had said. “Eh?”

Kyoya smiled at her. “It is not the company’s responsibility to buy the things you need, you know.”

“But – ”

“As I’ve said, you don’t have to thank me.” Kyoya nodded at her as he adjusted his glasses. “See you tomorrow,” he said as the car drove away. Haruhi gaped after the car.

“Senpai?” she croaked.

* * *

Kyoya leaned back on the car’s seat as they turned around the corner. He glanced at the mint Haruhi had placed on his hand.

It doesn’t look like poison, he thought as he stared at it cautiously. And if Haruhi didn’t get sick when she tried it, surely he wouldn’t be too? Then, before he could change his mind, he popped the white candy inside his mouth.

It was… sweet, Kyoya finally admitted to himself. Not something he would consider as his favorite brand like what she foolishly decided, but passable enough for him not to spit it out. He adjusted his glasses.

Kyoya leaned back, took the newspaper on the seat beside him and began to read.

* * *

“Haruhi,” Ranka called from the doorway of her bedroom later that night. She looked up at him.

“Dad, you’re home early,” she greeted, straightening up on the seat.

“Yeah. I wanted to tell you my good news,” he said as he sat on her bed. She cocked her head and waited. He beamed at her. “I have a job!”

She smiled widely. “Really? That’s great.”

He grinned. “I know. Remember my college friend Mizuki? He recently opened a small bar beside his house and he immediately took me in when he heard I was looking for work.”

“That’s good news,” she murmured, mentally computing their expenses. With her father’s new job, they would be able to save enough money to pay what she owed Kyoya, not immediately of course, but it was a start. She grinned. She could return to being a lawyer if everything would continue perfectly.

Ranka focused his attention on the paper in front of Haruhi. “Is that for work?” he asked, peeking over her shoulder. She casually turned it around.

“No. I was computing our budget,” she told him. With all the new cuts Kyoya made in her salary, she wanted to make sure they would still be able to survive in the following weeks. But with Ranka’s news, it looked like she wouldn’t have to worry too much.

“Oh, Haruhi. I’m so proud of you. You’re working so hard,” he said, beaming proudly at her.

She stretched her lips in what she hoped look like a smile. “Yes, I _have_ to work hard,” she agreed. _Because if I won’t be able to pay Kyoya-senpai, I wouldn’t be able to leave._ She suddenly froze. “Dad, you didn’t mention this to Kyoya-senpai, did you? I mean, that you have a job now?”

His face fell. “No. I completely forgot to tell him.” He stood up. “I’ll go call him right now and - ”

“No,” she shouted in alarm. Ranka paused. She cleared her throat. “Don’t tell him, dad. I want to… surprise him. Let’s just tell him once you become regular.” _Or after I’m sure that I’ll finally be able to pay him so I can hand in my resignation too,_ she added silently. _And there’s nothing he could do about it even if he sabotage your work. Hehe._

“Well, if you say so.” Ranka gently patted Haruhi on the back. “I’ll be in my room, Haruhi. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Okay, dad.”

Ranka smiled at her before he quietly left her room. Haruhi turned the paper around and looked at the notes she had written.

“Well, if you say so.” Ranka gently patted Haruhi on the back. “I’ll be in my room, Haruhi. Go to sleep okay?”

“Okay, dad.”

Ranka smiled at her before he quietly left her room. Haruhi turned the paper around and looked at the notes she had written.

_So if senpai would get half my salary every month, that would mean I have to stay with him for at least four months,_ she thought. _And considering his scheming character, there would be a big chance that my debt would even get bigger the longer I stay. I mean, look at what he did with the cellular phone._

She sighed as she grabbed the calendar on the side.

_This one is to pay the electricity bill_ , she decided as began to circle dates. _This is the deadline for the water bill. There’s going to be a sale in the supermarket at this time, so I better take note of this. Next week would be for the down payment of –_

“Haruhi?”

She jumped up and glanced at her father. “Yes?”

“You’re still up?” Ranka said, forehead creased. “I thought I told you to go to sleep. It’s going to be a bright new day tomorrow. You should get some rest.”

Haruhi glanced at the numbers she had scribbled on the paper for a moment before nodding.

“I will dad. Good night.”

“Okay. Good night,” Ranka replied as he closed the door behind him.

Haruhi sighed. Her father was right. She really shouldn’t be taking this too seriously. Tomorrow will be a bright new day. She would just have to take whatever comes her way with her chin up. She could do that. She’s used to it.

Haruhi carefully hid her papers under the books stacked on her table before she turned off the lights and crawled under her bed.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Haruhi’s eyes fluttered open, blinking groggily at the ceiling for a few seconds, before she glanced at her side. The sunlight streamed through the open window, the curtain dancing gracefully with the soft breeze that entered. She silently took in this nature’s greeting before smiling.

 _No work today_ , she thought in relief. She could feel that this was going to be a beautiful Saturday morning. Yawning, she got up and began to arrange her bed. She could hear the birds chirping outside her window and it made her hum softly under her breath. Then, she straightened up and got out of her room.

The kitchen was empty when she walked in. Her father was probably still sleeping. She was glad that he was happy with his new job. It would distract him and that was important. No need to give him more problems than he already had. Besides, it’s her turn now to take care of him. She reached up to grab the box of pancake on the top counter when suddenly, the most disturbing and frightening sound echoed in the quiet apartment, breaking the peaceful silence and causing a shiver to ran down her spine.

The cellphone Kyoya gave her was ringing.

Haruhi blinked at the table by the door where she had left the phone last night. Slowly and very carefully, she walked up to it, the insistent ringing echoing in her ears loudly. When she reached the table, she picked the phone up and read the name she had saved on the caller ID: _Shadow King._

She stared at it for a moment before deciding on the smartest course of action anyone would have at that moment. She turned her phone off before walking back to the kitchen.

Just as she had just finished cooking four pancakes and placing it on the middle of the table, her father came out of the room, all groggy and yawning.

“Hn,” he grumbled as he sat on a chair.

“Morning,” she replied. She placed a mug of coffee in front of him. She eyed the bags under his eyes, at his tired and bleary features and frowned. “Did you get drunk last night again?”

Ranka groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Urgh.”

“Dad,” she said disapprovingly. She turned to a drawer by the sink and got a tablet. She handed it to him which he quickly took in his mouth. Then, he sighed again, massaging his temples.

“Hangover,” he moaned in his hands.

For the briefest moment, Haruhi thought back to the time when she last had a hangover and what the consequences of that action were. She shuddered. “Dad,” she began in a patient scolding tone, “it’s all right to have fun after work. But maybe have a little restraint next time?”

Ranka didn’t say anything. For a moment, he lay still, his head resting on the table. “Well. As long as you’re fine,” she said, sighing.

Then, his head shifted so that he was facing her and he opened an eye to peek at her. “Haruhi?” he croaked.

“Yes?” She watched him, waiting. Ranka opened his mouth, and then closed them again, trying to remember some very important information. Then, he spoke.

“I forgot.”

Haruhi blinked. “I think you need to go back to sleep,” she suggested. He seemed to agree with this because he grunted as he quickly stood up. He staggered a bit, then started to walk unsteadily back to his room.

“I’ll be going to the supermarket later,” she called as he stumbled inside his room. “Anything you want?”

“Urgh.”

“Okay.” Haruhi heard him close the door behind him as she settled down on the table and reached for the plate of pancakes she had made earlier.

There was a heavy knock on the door.

She wondered who it was as she headed for it. Whoever it was though, he sounded in a really bad mood. The firm knocks that he made caused Haruhi to be worried for their door’s safety. “Coming,” she called as she unlocked the door and pushing it open.

Haruhi blinked at a scowling Kyoya for a moment, the sunlight behind him causing his glasses to glint ominously at her. The seconds slowly ticked by as they stared at each other, before her instincts snapped and her hand immediately closed the door on his face.

 _Calm down. Calm down_ , she thought wildly as she leaned on the door, her heart pounding. She glanced at the calendar on the wall. She was pretty sure it was Saturday, which means no work, right? So why was the _Devil-Reincarnate Businessman_ AKA _Ootori Kyoya_ AKA her _Boss_ doing at her apartment? Why? Her brain twirled. She tried to remember what she did but couldn’t remember anything that might have made Kyoya come to her place.

There was silence outside. Haruhi didn’t dare breathe as she slowly placed her ears on the door, waiting for a sound. Then, she flinched when he began to knock again, harder this time. She took a deep breath before slowly, _slowly_ opening the door and peeked outside.

Kyoya narrowed his eyes at her and she inwardly winced as she suddenly realized that it was A) early morning (barely a few minutes after nine), and B) everyone who knows Kyoya is aware of his evil-blood-pressure-dark-lord mood and C) she had just closed the door. On his face.

 _Ugh._ She closed her eyes briefly. Haruhi seriously hoped she was not turning into a masochist.

“Senpai,” she managed to ask. “W-what are you doing here?”

His eyes narrowed further. “Did you just slam the door on me?” he asked in a dangerously low voice.

She winced. “Erm, no,” she lied. “There was just something wrong with the… hinges.” She nodded and patted the door. “I’m going to ask dad to fix it later.”

Kyoya’s lips pursed as he closed his eyes briefly. Haruhi scrutinized him carefully. “Are you awake?” she asked.

His dark eyes flew open and glared at her, causing her to immediately straighten up. “Of course I am. How do you think I managed to get here?” he snapped.

“Okay,” she squeaked.

Kyoya glowered at her for a moment before sighing. His glasses became clouded. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” he said through gritted teeth, and Haruhi blinked at the sort-of apology. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. But –”

Whatever it was that Kyoya wanted to tell her, Haruhi never knew. Because a tall stack of carefully wrapped gifts was shoved in her hands and she could smell a sweet perfume that obviously didn’t belong to Kyoya.

“Oh my, Kyoya-kun,” said a gentle female voice, tone filled with excitement and curiosity. “You were right. A commoner’s apartment is so small. Can they really fit in here?”

Haruhi, hidden behind the pile of gifts, tried to take a look at her surprise visitors. “Erm, excuse me…” she began, her voice muffled.

Then, the female stranger gasped. “Kyoya-kun, look! They have an oven.” Her voice shook with amazement. “ _An oven_!” she breathed.

“Um,” Haruhi tried again as she shifted the weight of presents in her arms.

“Obviously nee-san, some commoners can afford to buy things like that,” Kyoya replied in a bored tone.

 _Nee-san?_ “Um, excuse me,” Haruhi repeated loudly and sounding a bit annoyed, because this was her house and they were ignoring her like she wasn’t even there. And what were these stupid things that she was holding anyway?

“Eh? Really?” The woman sounded surprised. “I thought they still cook by rubbing stones together!”

The heap of gifts in front them twitched.

Kyoya sighed. “You’re watching those commoner movies Tamaki sent me again, aren’t you?”

Pause. “Don’t be silly Kyoya-kun. I am very busy with my work. I don’t have time to watch movies.”

“I certainly hope not because we both know that I threw those DVDs away. I do not want to find out that my sister was going through my trash,” he said meaningfully.

There was another pause. Then: “But where is Haruhi-chan, Kyoya-kun? I thought she lived here!”

Kyoya must have gestured at Haruhi because the woman suddenly gasped again and a pair of black eyes that looked so much like Kyoya’s peeked at Haruhi from behind the presents on her arms.

“Haruhi-chan,” the beautiful woman greeted excitedly. “What are you doing just standing there?”

Haruhi blinked at her. “Well,” she began.

“Never mind. Here, let Kyoya-kun carry it,” the woman said as she took the load off Haruhi.

“Excuse me? I don’t think – oof!” Kyoya disappeared behind the pile of gifts that were suddenly shoved in his arms.

“Well, let’s see.” The woman took Haruhi’s hands and smiled at her widely. “Uwaa! Tamaki-san was right. You do look very pretty.”

“Um,” Haruhi said, genuinely wondering who the hell was this woman. “Thank you. I think.”

“Can you turn around?”

Haruhi blinked. “Huh?”

“Let’s see.” The woman suddenly placed her hands on Haruhi’s shoulders before gently twirling her around, eyes appraising her body. She nodded when Haruhi faced her again. “You’re a bit skinny, but nothing a nutritionist can’t fix.”

Haruhi stared at her for a moment. “Um. Who are you?” she finally asked.

“Oh I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce myself.” She flashed her a sweet smile. “I’m Fuyumi. Kyoya-kun’s sister.”

Haruhi stared, unable to think of anything to say. What was Kyoya’s sister doing in her apartment?

“Nee-san,” came Kyoya’s muffled voice.

Fuyumi glanced at him before she giggled and faced Haruhi again. “I’m sorry we barged in like this, but you see, it’s my birthday,” she beamed.

Haruhi waited for further details, but when she realized nothing was coming, Haruhi merely shrugged. “Okay,” she said slowly, not really understanding the logic behind her explanation. “Happy birthday.” Fuyumi laughed. Whether she read Haruhi’s reaction correctly or not, Haruhi didn’t know.

“Thank you. Anyway, these are all for you,” Fuyumi continued, gesturing at the gifts they brought. Haruhi frowned.

“For what?”

“Haruhi-chan, we’re visiting your house. It’s only proper we bring gifts,” she explained patiently.

Haruhi stared at the tall pile of presents. “I think those are too much.”

“Don’t be silly. The ones from Europe haven’t even arrived yet,” Fuyumi told her cheerfully.

Haruhi’s right shoulder drooped down. “Europe?” she croaked.

“Yes.” Fuyumi glanced at her watch. “But they’ll be here maybe this afternoon. I apologize for the delay,” she said quickly when she saw the horrified expression on Haruhi’s face and misinterpreting it. “I told Kyoya-kun we should have just asked Tachibana to pick it up himself using our private Lear jet but –”

Haruhi closed her eyes and reminded herself that getting angry with Kyoya’s sister would be a very bad idea. She took deep, calming breaths, telling herself that Fuyumi-san wasn’t to blame. She opened her eyes. No. The one to blame was –

“Kyoya-kun,” Fuyumi said curiously. “You’re not always this quiet. Are you shy around Haruhi-chan?”

“No,” Kyoya’s muffled voice calmly replied. “But I do want to take this load off me, if you please.”

“Oh right!” Fuyumi glanced at Haruhi. “Where could we place these?”

Haruhi eyed the gifts in frustration before she sighed and gestured at the space behind the couch. Kyoya grunted and headed for that direction and grudgingly put the gifts down. Before Haruhi could say anything, Fuyumi almost-skipped to the kitchen where she saw the pancakes on the table.

“Oh! How wonderful. Kyoya-kun, look at their breakfast! How quaint.”

Haruhi stared at Fuyumi. Was she really Kyoya’s sister and not Tamaki’s? She looked up wearily as Fuyumi called her name again.

“Could we have breakfast with you?” Fuyumi asked hopefully.

Like Haruhi could refuse Ootori Kyoya’s sister? She doesn’t want to be kicked out of the country yet, thank you very much. “Um,” she said, shrugging, “if that’s what you want.”

“Oh this is so exciting,” Fuyumi said happily, clapping her hands once. Haruhi marveled at her enthusiasm while Kyoya merely grunted as he adjusted his glasses.

* * *

“Oh no,” Fuyumi cried as she broke her fourth plate, her hands full of soapsuds. “Haruhi, I swear I am so sorry! I didn’t – It slipped – I am so sorry –”

Haruhi swiftly picked up the broken pieces, a broom on her other hand. She instantly regretted letting Fuyumi to _‘help’_ her clean. “It’s all right, Fuyumi-san. These things happen,” she said for the fourth time that day.

Fuyumi looked absolutely horrible. “I am so sorry,” she wailed again as she watched Haruhi clean the floor. “I offered to help wash the dishes but I didn’t realize it was this hard!”

“It’s all right,” Haruhi repeated wearily. But mentally, she sighed. She wondered if she could still sneak in the supermarket and buy them a new set to use before her father woke up.

Fuyumi bit her lip and turned to look at Kyoya who was calmly sitting on one chair as he read a newspaper. “Kyoya-kun,” she began urgently. “We should do something. This is all our fault –”

“Yours,” Kyoya corrected absently. “I specifically told you to not ‘help out’ around here.”

Fuyumi ignored him and moaned. “ We just broke all their plates, and oh, what would they use to eat? They’re going to starve! If only the soap wasn’t too slippery –” She froze for a moment, then her face brightened. “Kyoya-kun, could I borrow your phone for a moment?”

Kyoya handed it to her without taking his eyes off the business section. Fuyumi quickly dialed. She waited for a second.

“Hello?” she greeted when the other line picked up. “Tachibana? Where are you?… Oh good. Could you stop by along the way and buy Haruhi-chan a new set of plates?…”

“Fuyumi-san, that’s not really necessary,” Haruhi began as she threw the pieces in the trash.

Fuyumi ignored her too. “Of course. Charge it on my account… Yes… Yes… Exactly! The gold plates sounds absolutely wonderful –”

Haruhi swiftly turned around. “Gold plates?” she echoed.

“Naturally,” Fuyumi was saying. “That’s a wonderful idea. Why stop at plates when we can buy them a whole kitchen?”

Haruhi turned to face Kyoya in exasperation. “Senpai, please tell your sister we don’t need a new kitchen,” she begged.

Kyoya turned a page of the newspaper. “Why not? You obviously need one,” he said calmly, barely glancing at her.

Haruhi’s eyebrow twitched. She faced Fuyumi again. “Fuyumi-san. Let’s not overreact. I could just easily buy a new set of plates from the supermarket. There’s no need to –”

“And new tiles too,” Fuyumi said sighing, looking down at their flooring with sadness. “I cannot believe Haruhi-chan and her father could live with such an ordinary looking floor - ”

“No,” Haruhi interrupted. “No tiles. No new kitchen. You just broke our plates, not our house.”

Fuyumi’s eyes brightened. “A Porsche? Why that’s an idea… Hang on…” She covered the mouthpiece and glanced at Haruhi. “Haruhi-chan, do you have a driver license?”

Haruhi stared at her for a moment before she glared at Kyoya. “Senpai, do something,” she growled.

Kyoya finally looked up and sighed. “Haruhi. I’m not going to charge you anything for this if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I. Do. Not. Need. A. New. Kitchen.”

He smirked patronizingly. “You just think you don’t.”

“Haruhi-chan?” Fuyumi asked again, waiting.

Haruhi glared at them. “No cars. No tiles. No new kitchen,” she spat. “Leave my house alone please.”

Fuyumi’s face abruptly fell. “You – ” She bit her lip. “ You don’t like my gifts?” she asked quietly.

Haruhi blinked at the sudden change in her voice and as she stared at Fuyumi’s disappointed face, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit guilty. “Uh. It’s not like that –”

“It’s her birthday,” Kyoya reminded calmly, getting his newspaper again. “Try not to make her sad, at least.”

Haruhi narrowed her eyes at him. “Thank you,” she hissed. “That’s really helpful.”

“You’re welcome.”

Haruhi took a deep breath. “Fuyumi-san,” she said carefully. “I really appreciate all these, but I don’t need them. I don’t drive. I don’t need new flooring. In fact – The… plates would be enough,” she said reluctantly.

Fuyumi brightened up at this. “Okay.” She took her hand off the mouthpiece. “Tachibana? Just the golden plates then.”

“No,” Haruhi cut in. “No gold. Just the plain ones would do –”

Fuyumi bit her lip again. “But I really, _really_ want to give you those gold plates. We have a set like that at home and I’m sure you’re going to love it,” she said, eyes wide with hopeful pleading and Haruhi knew she lost.

Stupid Fujioka conscience.

It was at about this moment that Haruhi decided Fuyumi was indeed Kyoya’s sister because if she was this good at manipulating people the same way Kyoya does - only not as scary – then Fuyumi truly is an Ootori. Haruhi sighed in resignation.

“Fine,” she said grudgingly. “But I wish you’d buy me those plain ones too. You know, just for ordinary days.”

“Okay,” Fuyumi said happily. “Hello Tachibana? Get those plain set and the gold set… Yes. Exactly. The one with the diamonds and –”

Haruhi turned around and sighed. She began scrubbing the sink, trying to drown out Fuyumi’s voice in her ears.

“Ah!” Fuyumi exclaimed after she handed back Kyoya his phone. “Haruhi-chan, I almost forgot. We need to bake cookies today!”

Haruhi paused from her work. “Cookies?” she repeated.

“Yes! I’ve always wanted to bake cookies on my birthday,” Fuyumi explained.

“Well,” Haruhi hedged, thinking. She obviously cannot do her shopping today with these two visitors in her apartment. Besides, her father would love to eat pastry. She nodded. “Okay.”

Fuyumi beamed. “Thank you,” she gushed. “And don’t worry, Haruhi-chan. We’ll help you clean up,” she promised. “Won’t we Kyoya-kun?”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “You don’t need to include me with your ludicrous plans.”

“You are such a spoilsport.” Fuyumi frowned.

“Besides, let the servants do the cleaning.”

“Kyoya-kun, Haruhi’s family doesn’t have any servants,” Fuyumi said in a loud whisper, as if she was worried that Haruhi might hear and get offended. Haruhi rubbed her temple, muttering about ‘rich bastards’ under her breath.

Kyoya rolled his eyes. “Then let Haruhi do it,” he said, bored. “What’s the difference?”

Haruhi rubbed her head even harder. This was going to be a _very_ long day.

Fuyumi sighed and sat down. “Kyoya-kun,” she said in a tone that oozed disappointment.

“I am not going to join your stupid commoner’s play,” Kyoya said firmly, pushing up his glasses. “I’m not Tamaki. I wouldn’t be caught doing something pathetic like that.”

* * *

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” Kyoya muttered darkly under his breath as Haruhi handed him a plate to wipe dry. He glared at the rag on his hands before he reluctantly took the plate and began wiping it sloppily. Haruhi glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I can clean up on my own,” she said mildly as she handed him a new bowl that Kyoya had asked Tachibana to buy (because Fuyumi had broken all their old ones).

He sighed as he took it. “Like nee-san would let me hear the end of this if I don’t help out,” he said dryly as Fuyumi whistled on the other side of the kitchen, mopping the floor with such vigor, Haruhi wondered if she would also need a new mop at the end of the day.

After Tachibana had arrived with the new set of plates (gold with diamond-crusted designs and the plain ones Haruhi requested), along with Fuyumi’s presents from Europe, Fuyumi insisted that they start baking cookies. So Haruhi obliged.

It was the busiest morning Haruhi had ever experienced, more stressful than working under Kyoya for the past months, in fact. And that was saying something. What Haruhi thought would be a normal baking-cookies session turned out to be a chaotic almost-annihilation of her entire kitchen. This was what happened **:**

9:40: Fuyumi opened some of her presents for Haruhi, which turned out to be baking ingredients and cooking materials.

9:41: Kyoya called Tachibana to buy a new set of dinner utensils, saying Haruhi would definitely need one after they’re through baking.

9:50: Haruhi began to prepare the ingredients they would need.

9:55: Fuyumi broke her first bowl.

10:00: Haruhi taught Fuyumi how to knead the dough.

10:03: Fuyumi broke her second bowl.

10:05: Fuyumi got frustrated with the kneading that she asked Kyoya to help her. Kyoya replied that he wasn’t going to help, and that they shouldn’t even be bothering to bake at all because they could easily call the bakeshop. Fuyumi ignored him and asked Haruhi to give Kyoya an apron.

10:06: Kyoya glared at Haruhi, as if daring her to obey Fuyumi.

10:07: Fuyumi gave Kyoya a _look_.

10:08: Fuyumi won. Kyoya stood in the middle of the kitchen, his glasses clouded, as he wore a pink, frilly apron that Haruhi said belonged to Ranka.

10:09: Kyoya calmly informed (read: threatened) Haruhi that if any word of this gets out, she would regret ever being born in this world. Haruhi assured him that she wouldn’t dare do such thing. Meanwhile, Fuyumi secretly got a camera and took a picture of him as he kneaded, his face streaked with flour.

10:30: Haruhi prepared the cookie plates.

10:45: Fuyumi broke another plate.

10:46: Haruhi put the cookies inside the oven.

10:50: Fuyumi suggested that they start to clean up. Kyoya tried to get out of the room, muttering about an important meeting, but Fuyumi cheerfully blocked his way, saying that she had made sure he was free of appointments for today. Kyoya frowned before reluctantly asking Haruhi to make him coffee (which he didn’t touch after finding out that it was made from instant coffee).

10:51: Fuyumi spent the next 5 minutes marveling at the ingenuity of commoners in inventing instant coffee and offered to drink Kyoya’s coffee instead. He impassively warned his sister of unknown bacteria and germs that might have contaminated the water Haruhi had used for the coffee, but Fuyumi laughed at his paranoia and even asked for a second cup later on.

11:17: After a couple of unavoidable accidents ( _“Oh dear. I’m sorry Haruhi-chan! I swear I didn’t mean to break the window!”_ and _“Ack! Haruhi-chan, I am so sorry! But I think your oven is on fire!”_ ), Haruhi suggested that Fuyumi stick with mopping the floor while she – Haruhi – cleaned the dishes. Fuyumi agreed, then asked Kyoya to help Haruhi, because he should be a gentleman and not let their host to do all the hard work, all the while giving Kyoya a very sweet smile. And much to Haruhi’s surprise, Kyoya reluctantly agreed.

So. Back to the present time:

That was why after half an hour of cleaning up the mess they made in the kitchen (though it was mostly Fuyumi’s), Haruhi found herself standing side by side with Kyoya in front of the sink. She washed the dishes while he dried them.

“Besides,” Kyoya continued dryly. “It’s her birthday. The least I can do is keep her happy. That includes doing whatever she wants. Even if it meant waking up early,” he frowned, “and being blackmailed.”

Haruhi eyed him curiously. “I was wondering about that,” she admitted. “But why are you two here if it is her birthday?”

Kyoya pursed his lips. “She has a thing with commoners. She finds them and the way they live fascinating. Kind of how Tamaki sees your kind and when she learned that I got you as my secretary, she insisted that I take her here.” He paused reluctantly. “She really wanted to meet you.”

“That’s weird,” she commented. “Why would she want that?”

“I don’t know. She almost thinks like Tamaki. And if I could never fully understand Tamaki’s mind, how could I ever understand my older sister’s way of thinking either?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You should have warned me though.”

He glanced at her. “I was trying to call you, but it seems your phone got cut off?” He asked this calmly but Haruhi could hear the accusatory tone underneath his questioning inflection.

 _Oh. So that’s why he was calling_ , she thought. “Oh, the, uh, battery was dead,” she said quickly. “I think.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I called your father anyway to inform him. He was grunting all the while but I’m sure he said he would be pleased to have us as guests.”

Haruhi blinked as she remembered how Ranka woke up and looked like he wanted to tell her something but almost passed out from remembering. She nodded as she tried to ignore the sound of a loud crash behind them.

“I’m all right,” Fuyumi quickly called. “I just stubbed my foot.”

The corner of Kyoya’s lips turned upward faintly. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask my men to do the necessary renovations of your kitchen after we go home.”

Haruhi sighed, wondering why her father still hasn’t woken up despite the chaos. He must have been really drunk to sleep all through this. She made a mental note to talk to him about that when he’s awake. “Never mind. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Another crash.

“I’m sorry!” Fuyumi wailed. “I’ll pick it up!”

“Trust me. You’ll thank me for this,” Kyoya said.

She sighed again. “Fine. Thank you.” They worked in silence for a moment, before Haruhi glanced at him again. “You must really care for her a lot for letting her talk to you in doing all these,” she commented.

Kyoya fell silent. Then, after a reluctant pause, he said, “Well. Blackmailer or not, she is my sister after all.”

Haruhi stared at him as if seeing him for the first time, and then bit back a smile that wanted to cross her face. She handed him the last pan cheerfully. “Here you go.”

“Hn.”

* * *

“Haruhi?”

Haruhi looked up from the sink and saw her father walking up to her. Ranka, though still looked weary, had mostly lost that drunk-look in his face. He wasn’t wearing make-up and had tied his long red hair in a ponytail.

“I didn’t know you were going to bake cookies,” Ranka said, rubbing his chin. “I could have helped.”

Haruhi sighed. “Actually, I –”

“My, my. Are you Haruhi-chan’s father?” Fuyumi suddenly appeared beside Ranka, a wide smile on her face. Ranka blinked at her.

“Who are you?” he asked curiously.

Fuyumi offered her hand. “Fuyumi. Kyoya-kun’s sister.”

Ranka’s face instantly brightened as he shook her hand. “Ah. Of course. Kyoya-kun mentioned you were coming. How lovely to meet you!” he gushed.

“I’m sorry for intruding in your house like this. But I really wanted to see your daughter – and you too! Kyoya-kun has told me so many wonderful things about you,” Fuyumi gushed back.

“Oh thank you. You are too kind.” Ranka looked around and saw Kyoya on the corner, putting his newspaper down. “Kyoya-kun! How are you?”

Kyoya flashed him a brilliant smile. “I’m fine, Ranka-san. Your daughter has been taking good care of me at work,” he said pleasantly.

Haruhi rolled her eyes as she scrubbed the sink clean again.

“But of course!” Ranka beamed at the two Ootori before looking at Fuyumi. “Kyoya-kun has always been really helpful to us. He’s almost family with him taking care her of my daughter. I don’t know how to thank him,” he told her.

Haruhi wanted to gag.

“Really?” Fuyumi’s eyes sparkled. “I always knew Kyoya is such a lovely young boy. He just needs a little guidance and push to the right direction – ”

 _Like a push out of the window perhaps_? Haruhi thought wryly as she scrubbed harder. _Damn rich bastard. Sitting there on the corner, not offering to help as if he owns the place –_

“ – and she’s amazing,” Fuyumi was saying. “She even taught me how to bake cookies even though we’ve met just now. Oh wait! Maybe I could bring her along with me the next time I go shopping! We’re going to have so much fun –”

“Ooh! That’s a great idea,” Ranka agreed wholeheartedly. “I’ve actually been telling her to –”

Haruhi sighed as she listened to them drone on. She put the rag down and washed her hands. She didn’t even know where their conversation was going, but she was willing to bet she wouldn’t like it one bit. “I think I need to do the laundry,” she muttered. Then she turned and swiftly walked past them.

Haruhi shuffled back to her room to get the clothesbasket. When she got back to the front door, Fuyumi and Ranka were seated on the couch, gushing as they exchanged childhood stories: Ranka was showing Haruhi’s childhood photos and Fuyumi was reminiscing about Kyoya-kun when he was young. As she watched, Fuyumi laughed at something Ranka was saying.

Haruhi shivered. Seeing her dad all chummy with the Ootoris was a very scary sight. Didn’t he have any self-preservation instinct at all?

“I’ll be going now,” she called lightly. There was no answer. She stepped outside. She took a deep breath, glad that she was able to get away from the house. She hummed softly as she walked down the outside hallway and down the stairs that led to the basement.

Fuyumi was nice and all; beautiful, even. But she and Kyoya have the same eyes. And seeing those eyes to be all bright, gentle and Tamaki-like was too much for her stomach to handle. It was really a mystery how Fuyumi and Kyoya were related.

“Sometimes, even I wonder about how nee-san and I are related,” a low, amused voice said thoughtfully behind her.

Haruhi yelped. She grasped the railing and regained her balance as she swiftly turned around. She instantly regretted it, though. Kyoya was already too tall for her. But now that she was standing two steps down from him on the stairs, he looked even more ominous and menacing than ever. It didn’t help her feeling of anxiety when his mouth turned up in a smile.

“Senpai,” she hissed, clutching her chest. “You shouldn’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry,” he said in a tone that was not sorry at all.

Once Haruhi’s heart was beating normally, she glared at him. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside poisoning my father’s mind about how wonderful the Ootori family is?”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “There’s no need to do that. Ranka-san already adores me and frankly, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t. Besides, nee-san is actually doing a pretty good job.”

“Hmf.” Haruhi frowned before she let out a sigh and turned around. It wasn’t until she reached the door of the basement that she realized – very annoyingly – that someone was still following her. She turned around again.

“Kyoya-senpai,” she began patiently, “why are you following me?”

“Nee-san asked me to accompany you.”

She stared at him. “I’m going to do the laundry.”

“I know. I reminded her that.”

She waited.

“But she insisted that I be a gentleman and offer to help you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is this going to take long?”

Haruhi rolled her eyes. “Are you really going to come with me?”

“Of course,” he said nodding, although the way he said it told her that he wasn’t going to like it one bit. “Anyway, she’s going to pester me later on how you do the laundry. She’s going to want a long and descriptive explanation of how a washing machine works so I guess I better come with you.”

“You guys have those at home,” she pointed out.

“Yes,” he agreed. “But we’re not the one who’s washing our clothes. We haven’t even been to our laundry room yet, which is a shame because from the design plans I’ve seen, it’s practically bigger than the Fujioka apartment.”

Her eyebrow twitched slightly as she adjusted her grip on the clothesbasket. Damn rich bastards. She cleared her throat. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “But don’t touch anything unless I tell you to.”

Kyoya looked vaguely amused at this. “If you say so.”

Haruhi narrowed her eyes at him before she opened the basement door. There was another short flight of stairs that led downward, Kyoya just behind her.

“Haruhi, why do you have your laundry room in the basement?” Kyoya asked as they walked. Haruhi glanced at him briefly before shrugging.

“I don’t know. This is the only room available left, I think.”

“Ah.”

Under the bright light bulbs of the room, Haruhi could see the piles of dry clothes that sat in baskets and on the table in the corner. There was water dripping from a leaky faucet at the corner of the room, making a soft _drip-drip_ sound. It was a windowless room, but the air inside was not suffocating. Haruhi’s gaze fell on the dryer machines on the left side.

Standing in front of one of machines was a short, portly middle-aged man with a balding head, who was about to finish in stuffing his clothes back in his basket. Haruhi stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” Kyoya asked. He followed her gaze and blinked at the man she was staring at.

The man looked up upon hearing Kyoya’s voice. He frowned at Kyoya before his eyes fell on Haruhi. Then, the corner of his mouth turned up in a twisted smirk.

“Fujioka-san,” he greeted, nodding.

Haruhi nodded, albeit a bit stiffly. “Inoue-san.” Inoue’s gaze flicked at Kyoya and there was curiosity in those eyes. Haruhi cleared her throat. “This is my… employer.”

“Employer?” Inoue looked at her again, the smirk getting wider. “Oh yes. I remember now. You stopped being a civil lawyer and became a maid of some sort for a rich bastard. Very wise, if I may add. Those wealthy people surely pay a lot more than the cases you’ve been handling.”

From the corner of her eye, Haruhi could see Kyoya raise an eyebrow at Inoue but surprisingly, the Shadow King didn’t say anything. “Actually, not maid. I’m his secretary.”

Inoue snorted. “Same thing. He orders you around, doesn’t he?”

There was a short pause.

Haruhi took a deep breath. “I’ll see you around, Inoue-san,” she said politely and turned.

She walked over to the washing machines on the other side of the room and started to separate the white clothes from the colored ones. When this was done, she dumped the white clothes in one machine while the rest in another. She reached up to get the detergent in the cabinet but when she couldn’t reach it, she had to stand on her tiptoes and stretched her hand – only to feel Kyoya’s arm brushing slightly against hers as he took the detergent for her.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Kyoya didn’t say anything, and instead, he glanced down with undisguised interest at the washing machine. She sighed and began to work.

“So, I heard your father got a new job,” Inoue began again behind her. She glanced at him over her shoulder before pouring detergent into the second machine.

“Yes,” she replied as she put the box of detergent away. Kyoya was beside her, his eyes narrowed as he watched the clothes go round and round inside the machine, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet room.

Inoue smirked as he took his basket. “That’s good. This means I’ll be waiting for him to pay me back – ” he sneered, “ – real soon.”

Haruhi swiftly turned around and crossed her arms. “I think we already talked about this,” she said. “I’ll be the one to pay you back. You don’t need to pester him about it.”

He nodded solemnly. “Oh but of course, Fujioka-san,” he said in a too-polite tone, “I just wanted to remind you.”

“I’m well aware of it until now,” Haruhi cut in. Inoue glanced at Kyoya who had his turn back at them before smiling at her.

“Of course,” Inoue repeated. “I’ll be – seeing you around.”

“Yes. See you.” She remained still, her arms crossed. Inoue smirked again before he turned on his heels and left. There was a moment of silence as she listened to his fading footsteps and the sound of a door being closed. Then, she breathed a sigh of relief, dropping her hands to her side.

“Trouble?”

Haruhi glanced at Kyoya who had finally raised his gaze from the washing machine and was staring at her, eyebrow slightly raised. She shook her head.

“Long story.”

“I’m bored. You can tell me about it,” he said.

Haruhi paused but shook her head again. “No, it’s nothing,” she said vaguely. And before Kyoya could ask her again, she pointed at the colored socks that were left in the basket. “Could you please hand me those?”

Kyoya adjusted his glasses and did as he was told.

After more than half an hour of waiting _(“Interesting. And the clothes come out cleaned?”)_ , drying _(“So, do all commoners know how to do this?”),_ and folding clothes _(“Don’t you get bored doing that all over again?”)_ , Haruhi and Kyoya walked up the stairs, each carrying a basket (Haruhi had asked Kyoya to carry the colored clothes so Fuyumi won’t be too mad at him if she found out that all Kyoya did was stand and ask questions).

“Are you going to go home after this?” Haruhi asked, as she reached for the knob of the door.

“I don’t know,” Kyoya said blankly. “Who knows what other nefarious plots nee-san has in store for me.”

She snorted. “That statement is more appropriate to refer about you, senpai,” she said lightly. She turned on the knob and pulled.

“How rude,” Kyoya mused. “And here I am offering my presence to make you feel better.”

“Oh. That’s what you were doing? I didn’t notice,” Haruhi said distractedly as she tugged at the door again. Then, she frowned. Kyoya raised an eyebrow with her hand motionless on the knob.

“Is there anything wrong?” he asked.

Haruhi looked anxiously at him. “I think we’re locked from the outside.”

Pause.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyoya said calmly. “Who would dare do such thing?”

Inoue’s sneering face quickly flashed through Haruhi’s mind. “I don’t know,” she hedged.

“Let me try.” Kyoya moved forward as Haruhi took her hand away. He gripped the knob tightly and began to turn it, firmly and determined.

However, his determination didn’t do anything except for the mechanic clicking sound it made as his efforts to open the door turned futile. And when the door gave a final _click_ after one fierce tug, the knob suddenly came loose in his hand.

Kyoya and Haruhi stared.

“Uh senpai, please tell me you did not just break the door?”

“I think I just broke the door,” Kyoya said impassively as he blinked at the detached knob on his hand.

“Ugh.” Haruhi closed her eyes.

“Well. There’s no need to worry,” Kyoya said as he threw the knob on the floor. “We just wait then. Ranka-san and nee-san are just upstairs. They’ll realize we’re missing and will go down here to look for us. Tachibana and my men are probably on the way from the airport too. So there’s really nothing to worry about.”

Haruhi considered this before nodding. “You’re right. It doesn’t take me more than an hour to do the laundry. Dad will be worried about me soon.”

She sighed quietly. And here she thought this day was going to be a good one. But then again, since when did life turned out to be the way she wanted? She barely survived the almost-obliteration of her kitchen; she had an unpleasant run-in with Inoue-san, and now she got trapped in the laundry room. Worse, _she was trapped in the laundry room with Kyoya_. She seriously hoped this day would not get any worse than this.

As if on cue, the lights in the laundry room simultaneously went off. The basement was suddenly filled with eerie darkness and the silence echoed against the walls. Haruhi blinked in alarm.

“Kyoya-senpai?” she cautiously called out. She stretched out her hand and began to fumble in the darkness. A warm hand caught hers.

“Haruhi. That’s my foot you’re stepping on.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She stood still, squinting in the darkness. “What’s happening?”

“Power blackout, I think. Or someone outside is really having fun with toying with us. Hang on…” Kyoya began to pat his pocket, and Haruhi barely realized that he was still holding her. There were a few shuffles and Kyoya sighed in relief, finally letting go of her hand.

Haruhi blinked at the sudden brightness that came from Kyoya’s cellular phone. Kyoya held it in front him, the faint light giving his face an odd glow.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. Kyoya glanced at the closed door.

“We have to stick together or we’ll fall off the stairs,” he said, frowning. He stared at his phone for a moment before his lips pursed tightly. “There’s no signal. Is there any emergency alarm in here, or something?”

She thought about it. “I don’t think so.”

Kyoya sighed. “This is why I detest second-rate apartment buildings. They don’t have the necessary equipment for their tenant’s safety.”

Haruhi didn’t bother to refute his comment. She looked around the darkened room. “So… so we just have to wait here then,” she said slowly as she leaned back.

He pushed his glasses. “Looks like it.”

Haruhi exhaled sharply. _Great._ Just great.

Kyoya sighed as he put his basket down and also leaned on the wall beside her. “Then we wait,” he repeated. “At least I can trust nee-san to come through for me when it comes to these things. It doesn’t sometimes show, but she’s a really responsible sister.”

* * *

“My, is that Fujioka-san?” Fuyumi gushed as she pointed at a middle-school picture of Haruhi that Ranka was showing her.

“Yes, that’s my very cute daughter,” Ranka said proudly.

“Shame she had to cut her hair in high school,” Fuyumi said longingly, as she glanced at Haruhi’s photo with the Host Club. “She looks so beautiful with long hair.”

“I know,” Ranka agreed, looking devastated. “I couldn’t eat for a month when I saw her looking like a boy!”

* * *

Kyoya glanced at his watch. “We’ve been here for fifteen minutes. Why aren’t they sending people down here?” He frowned.

Beside him, Haruhi sat down on the floor and hugged her legs to her chest. She gave a long sigh.

* * *

“… and this is when I took Haruhi to her first amusement park,” Ranka was saying, presenting a picture of Haruhi on the Merry-Go-Round. “And her first snow angel - ” he took another picture, “And her first bike ride –”

“Aww,” Fuyumi cooed. “Haruhi-chan looks so cute!”

* * *

“Thirty minutes,” Kyoya gritted his teeth. “For a woman who is married, she’s supposed to be responsible enough to be looking for her younger brother when he is missing for _thirty minutes_.”

Haruhi groaned as she placed her forehead on her knee and closed her eyes.

Kyoya exhaled sharply.

* * *

Ranka’s hand froze midway to the plate of cookies in front him.

“Is there something wrong, Ranka-san?” Fuyumi asked worriedly.

“I think – ” Ranka hesitated. “I think I’ve forgotten something important.” Fuyumi’s forehead crunched in worry as she watched him. Ranka fell silent as he stared at the mug on his hand. Then, his eyes widened.

“What?” Fuyumi asked anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to put sugar in your coffee,” he said, looking sheepish as he stood up and headed for the cabinet. Fuyumi glanced at her own mug and giggled.

“Oh,” she said chuckling. “And here I thought it was something terrible!”

* * *

“I think they’ve forgotten about us,” Haruhi said, an hour later since they were trapped in the basement.

Kyoya pushed his glasses.

“I’m going to have a very _long_ talk with my dad after this,” Haruhi muttered darkly.

Kyoya grunted in agreement, Fuyumi clearly visible in his mind’s eye.

* * *

Haruhi shifted her legs so that she was hugging her knees as she sat down on the floor. She glanced at her watch. It had been exactly an hour, fourteen minutes and thirty-five seconds since they’ve been stuck in the laundry room. Shouldn’t someone have passed by at this time? And what were her dad and Fuyumi doing for them _not_ to realize that they had been gone for quite a long time? Haruhi sighed.

At least Kyoya wasn’t dropping any snide comments anymore. Otherwise, being trapped in the room with him would be more than stressful. She eyed him.

“Kyoya-senpai, why don’t you sit down?” she offered, patting the space beside her. “You’ve been standing the whole time.”

Kyoya glanced down at her, glasses clouded.

“We’ll be out here in no time,” she assured him. “Relax.”

Haruhi watched as emotions flashed on his face – irritation, annoyance and finally, resignation – and she wondered if he would rant on her instead. But he merely frowned and slid down beside her. Haruhi glanced at him for a moment before staring straight at the wall across.

“But I’m glad you’re here, senpai,” she said lightly, leaning back on the wall behind her. Kyoya gave her a look. “At least, I wouldn’t be alone trapped here if you and Fuyumi-san didn’t drop by,” she explained.

“I wouldn’t be here in the first place if it weren’t for my _sister_ ,” he said dryly, narrowing his eyes at the last word. Haruhi gave a soft smile, then suddenly remembering what Kyoya had told her earlier.

“How did she ever manage to blackmail you?” she asked curiously. “I never imagined someone was capable of doing such thing to you.”

His face darkened. “She hid my office key.”

Pause. Haruhi blinked. “She hid your office key,” she finally repeated after a moment. “That’s… really tough. I guess.”

Kyoya narrowed his eyes. “I couldn’t do any work because of her. And I couldn’t exactly ask Tachibana to open the door because, apparently, he was still in Paris shopping for her. So she promised she’ll return the key to me after I accompany her here.”

“Oh,” she said again, nodding. “Wow. That must be… hard for you. Not being able to work on a weekend, I mean.”

“I have four documents waiting to be read and signed,” he said, irritated. “Just because of some stupid whim to see you – ” He stopped abruptly.

“Ah yes, you mentioned that,” she said, remembering. “Did Tamaki-senpai talk about me?”

He glanced at her. “Sort of,” he said slowly. “Your name just came up. I don’t even know why.”

She nodded. “I see.” She rested her chin on her knees thoughtfully. “I like Fuyumi-san.”

He grunted. “Now that’s a surprise,” he muttered.

“She’s such a wonderful person.”

Kyoya also stared at the wall in front them. “Yeah she is,” he finally said.

Haruhi glanced at him. “I didn’t even know you have an older sister. I always thought the Ootori were all males.”

“She married early,” he explained.

“Ah. Childhood friends?”

“No. Arranged marriage.”

Haruhi blinked. “Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Not really.” He raised an eyebrow. “Her husband is a good man. He owns a chain of hotel and they are starting a new one in America. He adores her. She’s very lucky.”

“And she wanted to marry him?” she asked, blinking.

Kyoya shook his head. “At first no. But she… had to.”

“Hn. Like I said, it’s too bad.” She shrugged. “And here I thought rich people can have anything they want.”

“We might have all the power and influence in the entire world, but that doesn’t mean we will all have a happy ending. Our lives are not made of fairytales, contrary to what most people believe.”

“Oh I know that.” She nodded. “I just think it’s such a shame that you people are so wrapped up in what others would say that it makes you miserable when you don’t even have to.”

Kyoya glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Haruhi wondered if she said something offensive because he suddenly fell silent. She opened her mouth to ask him, but he beat her to it. “Haruhi, what does someone like you look for in a man?”

She blinked at him. “Huh?” she asked, looking confused at the sudden change in topic.

“What do you look for in a man?” he repeated. She frowned and tilted her head to the side, a finger resting on her cheek.

“Well. I suppose I want someone who is _not_ annoying,” she said thoughtfully. “Because sometimes I can’t help but feel that the males I’ve met are just plain bothersome.” She paused and quickly glanced at Kyoya, unabashedly. “Sorry.”

He gave a small smile at this. He nodded. “No offense taken. And?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a simple man, I guess.”

“That’s a pretty wide range of choices,” he mused.

Haruhi frowned. “It’s just that I don’t really expect too much from others. I can’t ask them to change just because of me.” She paused, and a wistful smile crossed her face. “My dad always said my mom was the best thing that happened to him because she accepted him despite everything else. I just want to be happy like them.”

She stared at him curiously. “So what do you want in a woman?”

Kyoya smirked as he lifted a hand and started counting off his fingers. “Intelligent, because I do not want to have a conversation with someone who does not even know what ‘logistical assessment’ is. Comes from one of the top twenty most powerful families in Japan. Holds at least 12 percent of her family’s stocks. Graduated from a prominent school because educational background matters, no matter what other people say. And she has to be between 5’4 to 5’7 – enough to be just the right height and preferably, with any foreign blood. In that way, it is easier to expand to international market.”

Haruhi stared. “Well,” she finally said. “That’s, uh, really… detailed.”

“An Ootori deserves nothing but the best,” he agreed solemnly.

“I just want to make sure but,” she squinted at him through the dim light from his phone, “we are talking about what you want in a woman you’re going to marry here and not a business partner?”

“Naturally.” He chuckled as if she said something funny.

She blinked. “Well. I guess that explains why you don’t have any fiancée at the moment. No one is that perfect to fall in your standard.” Haruhi rolled her eyes at him. “No really. What are you looking for in a woman?” she insisted.

Kyoya stopped chuckling and looked at her in surprise. “I just told you.”

She shook her head. “You told me what your society expects you to marry. What are _you_ looking for?”

“I don’t understand.” He blinked. “What’s the difference?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Because obviously, there is a great difference in between what an Ootori son should marry and what Ootori Kyoya truly wants. I know you deserve better someone than what you’ve just described,” Haruhi explained. She paused wearily as she raised her hand to brush a strand of hair that fell over her face. When she looked up, Kyoya was staring at her with a strange expression on his face, making him look unnatural with the lack of light. She blinked. “What?” she asked suspiciously.

He continued to stare at her. Haruhi leaned slightly away from him, feeling uncomfortable. “Are you all right, senpai?” she asked uneasily. “You don’t have to look at me like that.”

Kyoya looked like he was about to reply but thought better. He adjusted his glasses for a moment, the lenses clouding as he frowned. “I don’t know,” he finally said, and Haruhi knew he was referring to her question earlier.

“Well, take your time,” she assured him. “Just don’t forget to introduce me to the woman you want to marry so I can warn her of what she’s getting into.”

The tension in his face broke and he gave a wry smile. “You know what’s strange? I think you’re actually serious about that last part.”

“I am,” she said startled, silently wondering why he would think otherwise.

They fell silent for a long time before Kyoya turned at her inquiringly. “Haruhi, who was that man earlier?” he suddenly asked.

Haruhi glanced at him. “Who?” She blinked as her mind tried to process what he was asking. “Oh. Inoue-san?”

“Yes. What does he want from you?”

She hesitated, still a bit bewildered at his question. “My father… owes him a large amount of money.”

“Ah. A Fujioka in debt,” Kyoya deadpanned. “Why am I not surprised?”

Haruhi glowered at him. “He’s been threatening my father before,” she finally continued. “I didn’t know of it before until I came home early from work one time and caught them arguing.” She frowned at the memory. “Apparently, Inoue-san added a five percent interest and Dad didn’t like it because that wasn’t part of their agreement. I didn’t tell my father I heard them, though. But that night, I went to Inoue-san’s apartment and made a deal. Inoue-san agreed and he told my father that he didn’t have to pay him anymore.” She paused.

“And the deal is you’re the one who’s going to pay for your father instead?” When Haruhi nodded, he continued in disbelief, “How brave, knowing you do not earn that much. Or should I say stupid?”

“As long as my father is safe, it doesn’t matter.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like we can do anything about it. Inoue-san is…” She hesitated. “He comes from… well, a criminal background. And even if I am knowledgeable about the law, I don’t want to put my father in danger.”

“Criminal background,” Kyoya mused. “Like, an underground association of thieves or illegal dealers?”

Haruhi nodded reluctantly. “Yes, something like that. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. After I pay off what I owe you, my salary would be enough to pay Inoue-san in no time.”

Kyoya’s glasses clouded. He fell silent for a moment as he considered what she had said. “Haruhi,” he began. “If you want, I could – _persuade_ him not to harass you anymore.”

Her head snapped up. She blinked at him. “Persuade him,” she repeated slowly.

The cellphone light caused Kyoya’s glasses to glint ominously. “Yes. I am well gifted in that area of human psychology.”

Haruhi blinked again. “Um,” she said carefully. “I doubt Inoue-san would be easily convinced. Especially since we still owe him a lot.”

“Well. We could always resort to unconventional methods until he agrees,” he said thoughtfully.

Haruhi stared at him. “What unconventional methods?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, the usual.” Kyoya calmly adjusted his glasses. “Blackmail, coercion, and sometimes, termination of some bodily functions. There are a lot of ways more, actually. But really, it depends on the mood or which one works faster.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “Personally, I always want everything to be clean, thus the first option. But then again, maybe that’s just me.”

There was a sharp, cold silence.

The air around them suddenly dropped to zero, and Haruhi found herself scooting away from him. She shivered. Kyoya flicked his gaze at her.

“I was joking,” he deadpanned.

 _He didn’t look like he was joking_ , she thought darkly as she squinted at him but decided not to voice that aloud. She cleared her throat. “Right.” She nodded rapidly after a short pause. “I knew that,” she added quickly.

The corner of Kyoya’s lips twitched upward. “Of course you did.” He glanced at his watch and his frown returned. “They really should be searching for us by now. I cannot believe–”

He broke off as they heard a clicking sound outside of the door. Haruhi was on her feet immediately and rushed to the door. She knocked loudly.

“Is anyone out there?” she called, banging on the door. There was a pause outside. “Hello?”

“Haruhi-chan?” came Fuyumi’s anxious voice. “Is that you, Haruhi-chan? Is Kyoya-kun there? Are you both all right – ”

“Haaruuhii!!” Ranka wailed. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t realize you were trapped in here! I’ve already called the supervisor and –”

Kyoya looked up and rolled his eyes. “Finally,” he said. Haruhi glanced at him before chuckling. He eyed her warily. “What?”

“Oh, I just can’t wait to see my dad,” she said casually, stretching her lips in a forced smile. “We have so much to talk about.”

Kyoya stared. Then, he grinned too. “In that case, I can’t wait to see nee-san either.” And they both stared expectantly at the door as it was slowly being unlocked from the outside.

* * *

“We’ll be taking our leave,” Kyoya said as they stood outside the Fujioka apartment. “Thank you for taking care of us while we were here.”

“No problem,” Haruhi replied.

“You can always come back anytime, Kyoya-kun,” Ranka said from inside the house. “We would love to –”

Haruhi swiftly glared at him and Ranka immediately shut up. Kyoya smiled. “Thank you Ranka-san.”

Ranka squeaked as his daughter’s gaze was on him still.

“Have a safe trip home,” Haruhi finally said, looking at Kyoya again. “And say goodbye to Fuyumi-san for me.”

“I heard you, Haruhi-chan,” Fuyumi called cheerfully as she sat inside the limo across the building. “I’ll come visit you real soon –” Kyoya turned and frowned at her. Fuyumi rolled her eyes as she rolled up her window and disappeared behind the tinted glass.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” Haruhi reminded. “After all, she wasn’t the one who was too busy showing his daughter’s childhood photos to realize that she’s trapped in the basement.”

Ranka winced. “Haaruuhii –”

“I’ll try,” Kyoya said. He nodded at her. “I’ll be seeing you at work.” Haruhi nodded. Kyoya turned around but suddenly stopped. He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Haruhi, if you change your mind, the offer to persuade him still stands.”

“Um,” Haruhi said, blinking. “Please don’t.”

Kyoya smirked. “Whatever you say.” Haruhi watched as he walked away. Then, she closed the door.

* * *

“So,” Fuyumi began as their limo started to move. “Haruhi-chan is a nice woman.”

Kyoya took a newspaper beside him and opened it. “I don’t know why you’re talking to me. I’m still mad at you,” he said calmly.

“No wonder father is really interested in her,” she continued, not listening to him. “She’s very bright, she can cook, her father is devoted to her and her credentials speak for itself. And she doesn’t seem to be affected by your rudeness – which for a commoner, is a first.”

Kyoya didn’t reply. Fuyumi fell silent for a moment as she surveyed her youngest brother. “Kyoya-kun? Do you think you –”

“No,” he cut in. She frowned.

“I haven’t even finished my question.

“I know what you’re going to ask.”

Fuyumi sighed. “But I like her,” she said wistfully. “I like her better than those other women – ”

Kyoya noisily turned a page of the newspaper. Fuyumi glanced at him, smiling sadly.

“I just think,” she said slowly, “that maybe its time to finally give yourself the happiness you deserve.”

He finally looked up and met her concerned eyes. “And you honestly think that Haruhi would give me that?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. Fuyumi sighed again at his indifference.

“Kyoya-kun, I just –”

“Haruhi is just a friend. Besides,” Kyoya sighed. “I’m still mad at you,” he repeated, but his tone was gentler.

“I already said I’m sorry,” she reminded, sighing. “Are you going to sulk all the way until we reach the mansion?”

“No because I am just going to drop you off there.”

She brightened. “Oh? Are you going somewhere? Could I come?”

“You can’t,” he said patiently. “I have an important person to meet. You can just stay at home and rest.” Fuyumi opened her mouth to insist on coming, but Kyoya raised the newspaper until it covered his face and she frowned, vaguely wondering if she could _clean_ his room while he’s gone instead.

* * *

Inoue was lounging in front of the TV, his feet propped up on the table where the empty popcorn bowl was also placed on. He yawned as he pressed the remote, switching one channel per second, eyes not really watching. His mouth opened in a yawn again.

There was a knock on the door. He glared at the wall clock and saw that it read 8:25pm. He growled as his visitor knocked again, louder this time. He scratched his face, obviously annoyed at the interruption of his otherwise exciting night.

“All right already, you idiot,” Inoue growled as he got up and shuffled towards his door. He scratched his stomach as he opened the door with obvious force. “What the hell do you –”

“Good evening, Inoue-san.” A tall man in a black suit bowed slightly in greeting. Inoue gaped as he let his eyes roam around and saw that less than a dozen men also in black suits were standing strategically outside his apartment, and even by the cars that were parked in front of the apartment building, all poker-faced and alert. He stared at this sight for a moment before he narrowed his eyes at the man who stood in front him.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Tachibana,” the older man said politely before he gestured at the men around him. “And these are my men.”

Inoue eyed him warily. This man, although he looked intimidating, didn’t seem to be police. He relaxed a bit. “Did _he_ order you to come here? I told him I’ll bring the money tomorrow –”

“I think you misunderstood our intention,” Tachibana said. “We’re not from… your group.”

“I see,” Inoue said slowly, pausing as he eyed them. “Are you from a new organization or something?”

A low chuckle made Inoue turned his head to the left. A tall, young man walked up to him, his glasses glinting under the light of the moon. Inoue blinked.

“Hey, I know you,” he said, squinting at him. “You’re that rich bastard earlier with Fujioka.” He paused, remembering, oblivious at the stiffening of Tachibana and his men. “Kyoya, wasn’t it? So. You’ve gotten out of that room, huh?” he chuckled.

“Inoue-san,” Tachibana cut in coldly. “I advise you to stop calling the young master a rich –”

Kyoya waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all right, Tachibana. I’ve been called many times before that too by a certain young woman, so really. It’s not much of an insult anymore,” he said, sounding vaguely amused rather than offended. Tachibana frowned at him.

“But sir –”

“It’s all right,” Kyoya repeated. He adjusted his glasses before flashing Inoue a charming smile. “Inoue-san. I was hoping we could talk earlier, but like you said, we couldn’t get out of that room for quite a while.”

Inoue frowned. If they weren’t police and they’re not from the _group_ either, then what the hell do they want? “Just get to the point,” he said impatiently and crossed his arms. “Why are you here?”

Kyoya raised an eyebrow. Then, he nodded. “Tachibana,” he said, extending a hand towards the older man. Tachibana quickly placed a thick, small book on Kyoya’s palm, along with a pen. Inoue watched with rapt attention as Kyoya opened the checkbook and started to scribble something. “Very well,” he said as he ripped a page from the book.

Inoue blinked as Kyoya handed him a check. His eyes widened as he read the amount written on it. Do rich people really have too much money that they were willing to give it away to strangers? Then, he paused as the sum on the check looked awfully familiar. He glanced at Kyoya. “This is –”

“The remaining amount of what Ranka-san owes you,” Kyoya finished. “I suppose you know what this means?”

“You want me to stop bothering Fujioka.” Inoue said it as a statement, not a question.

Kyoya looked pleased. “Very good. It seems we understand each other now.”

Inoue made a sucking noise as his face crumpled in a frown. “What if I don’t want to accept this? What if I still want the Fujioka lady to pay me personally?” he asked shrewdly, a slow smirk crossing his face. “She’s a pretty girl, you know. I like seeing her face.”

The pleased look on Kyoya’s face did not waver. “In that case, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Problem. Right.” Inoue snorted. “Look kid – ” Tachibana and his men stiffened again, “I’m used to dealing with rich people like you. You’re just wasting your time. Most of my clients are from your _kind_.”

“Perhaps, you’re right,” Kyoya agreed smoothly. “But then again, you haven’t met an Ootori before, have you?”

There was a short pause.

From the corner of Inoue’s eye, he could see Kyoya’s men shifting closer to his apartment. Two men were talking on their earpiece. One man who was standing across the street stared at him intently. Armed shadows flitted in the night. Tachibana and the rest were standing too still, as if just waiting for any signal to attack from Kyoya.

Inoue doubted Kyoya would actually ask his men to do such thing, especially since they were in a residential area. But based from his experience, this scene was supposed to scare the hell out of Inoue. There’s just one problem: he was far used to this shit to be scared anymore. But then again… he glanced at the check on his hand once more before he squinted back at Kyoya.

“Are you threatening me, Ootori-san?” Inoue asked mockingly, touching his chest. This statement, however, made the men in suits to smirk simultaneously, as if what he said was something funny. Inoue sneer faltered. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

“Ah, but Inoue-san. We Ootori never make threats,” Kyoya said calmly. He pushed his glasses slowly before he smiled at him. “We make promises.”

Silence.

Inoue was a smart man. Oh, maybe he wasn’t the kindest person one would ever meet in this world, but he was raised to be a practical man, thus he always made smart decisions. And despite Inoue’s callousness due to years of working illegally, somehow the sight of Kyoya’s angelic smile made the older man shiver a bit.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally asked, dropping his façade as he stared at him. “They’re supposed to be nobody for someone like you.”

“Ranka-san happens to be a very good friend of my sister and myself. I hate to see him being pestered by someone like you.”

“Oh right. And I suppose the Fujioka lady doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Inoue said sarcastically.

Tachibana made a soft coughing noise and Kyoya swiftly flicked his gaze at his right-hand man. Tachibana bowed abashedly. “I’m sorry, sir,” he apologized.

Kyoya adjusted his glasses. “Of course Haruhi has something to do with this. As you know, she’s working for me now, and as her employer and –” he paused slightly before continuing, “friend, it is my responsibility to help her. Besides, it wouldn’t be good for my family’s reputation if they found out that my own secretary couldn’t even pay her debts and is being bothered by some nameless underground person.”

In spite of the situation, Inoue looked affronted. “I am not some nameless underground person. Just so you know, I work for one of the most prominent criminal mastermind in Tokyo right now and – ”

“Ah, you mean Sabano Yuri?” Kyoya asked innocently.

Pause. Inoue narrowed his eyes. “Yes. And I suggest that you leave right now or I’ll call him and make sure your miserable pack dogs –” he sneered at Tachibana who stared stonily back, “ – will be sorry that they ever set foot in this building.”

For some strange reason, Kyoya looked awfully interested. “I see. Then go ahead. Call him right now.”

Inoue blinked at him distractedly. “What?”

“Call him right now,” Kyoya repeated. When Inoue didn’t move, he pushed his glasses in a thoughtful manner. “Oh right. Now I remember. Sabano-san doesn’t give his number to insignificant underlings. Perhaps… I should call him for you instead?” he asked as he took out his phone.

Inoue’s mouth dropped open. “Impossible,” he hissed. Kyoya looked amused.

“What’s impossible? That I have Sabano-san’s number or the fact that I know you’re bluffing about you being some hotshot criminal?” Kyoya’s smile widened when Inoue couldn’t reply. “Perhaps, _I_ should call him and inform him of what you have been doing. By the way, does he know that you betrayed one of his clients before?”

“You – I – I cannot – ” Inoue’s face turned puce.

“We’ll be taking our leave. I do hope we have an understanding of each other now,” Kyoya continued conversationally as he turned around. He paused and glanced at him over his shoulder. “Oh yes, before I forget. This conversation didn’t happen. I did not come here and you are to tell no one about this. Trust me,” he smirked. “I’ll know if you do.” Then, he walked away, Tachibana and the rest followed after him silently.

Inoue found his knees weak under him and he had to lean back on the door for support. He took a deep breath, calming his nerves. Damn rich bastard. How the fuck did he knew about his past? No one should have known about his treachery against that –

“Inoue-san?’” Kyoya called as he paused from the end of the hallway. “I think it would be better if you inform Haruhi about your change of heart and how you’re not going to bother them anymore. That would make her really happy. And me, of course.” Then, Kyoya smiled at him.

Inoue might have made a squeaking reply; he wasn’t sure of himself anymore. There is one thing he was sure of though – rich or not, Ootori Kyoya is one scary bastard.

* * *

Kyoya turned a page of the document he was busy reading that he should have finished if Fuyumi hadn’t asked (blackmailed) him into visiting the Fujioka household. He sighed as his eyes ached and he leaned back on his plush chair, massaging his temples. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned when it read 12:30pm.

Kyoya stifled a yawn as he reached for his mug of coffee. Unfortunately, it was already empty. He was about to call Tachibana to bring him another cup when the door opened and a pair of soft black eyes peeked inside.

“Kyoya-kun, why are you still awake?” Fuyumi wanted to know.

Kyoya frowned. “Because I wasn’t able to do any work the whole day, I had to do it tonight.”

Fuyumi frowned back as she entered the room. “The reason why I took you with me was for you to relax.”

“Oh yes. I had a lot of relaxing time while I was trapped in the laundry room.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already apologized. Besides, how were we to know that you guys were trapped down there? We had no idea.”

He blinked. “We’ve been gone for almost two hours.”

“So? We thought you two were just enjoying each other’s company,” she protested.

“For two hours?” he repeated. “Inside the laundry room?”

“Well,” she hedged. “Yes.”

“What were we supposed to be doing in the laundry room for two hours? Wash clothes all over again just for fun? We could have been kidnapped while you were exchanging childhood stories.”

“I thought you were playing cards!”

Kyoya stared. “In the laundry room?”

“I’ve watched commoners do that in a movie before and they had a lot of fun doing that,” she said defensively. Kyoya raised his gaze to the ceiling and sighed. He should really have a talk with Tamaki. These two sharing commoner movies would be the cause of his death.

Fuyumi waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, Haruhi-chan is such a sweet girl. Of course I didn’t think anything was wrong when you two were gone for a while. Besides, any normal man would be enjoying her company a little longer, you know.” She paused. “So wait. If you weren’t playing cards, what were you doing all those time you two were alone?”

Haruhi’s face flashed through his mind. He could still remember their conversation very distinctly. Kyoya adjusted his glasses, quickly clearing his thoughts. “We talked about how responsible our family members are,” he said calmly.

Fuyumi made a face. “Fine. I get the hint. I’ll go to bed now. I have something important to do tomorrow anyway.”

Kyoya immediately stiffened. “I’m not coming with you again –”

“I’m not going to ask you to,” she said smugly. “You just have to stay here and do the boring things you always do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what are you planning?”

Fuyumi wagged her finger at him. “It’s a secret.” She turned around and reached for the door. “Go to sleep, Kyoya-kun. You had a long day.”

Kyoya was about to retort on how it was all her fault when his cellular phone rang. He glanced at it instead, barely noticing that Fuyumi had left and closed the door behind her. He stared at the name on the caller ID for a moment, briefly reflecting about the irony of thinking about her just seconds ago, before he picked it up.

“Haruhi,” he greeted politely.

“Kyoya-senpai,” Haruhi replied. “I’m not bothering your sleep or anything, am I?”

“No. In fact, I’m still working.” Kyoya used his free hand to grab a pen and signed his name on the lower part of the paper. “Why are you calling at this hour?”

“Oh well.” She paused. “I just wanted to thank you.”

Kyoya put the pen down. “For what?”

“Inoue-san came by a few minutes ago. It was weird. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be heard or something…” she trailed off. Kyoya pursed his lips. He should have known that man would delay the task he ordered him to do. “And – he said a strange thing.”

“What strange thing?” Kyoya asked calmly.

“That we don’t have to pay him anymore,” she said, sounding genuinely bewildered. “And that we can expect nothing from him in the future.”

“I see. And?”

“That’s it.”

Kyoya felt relieved. At least Inoue knew what was good for his life. It would seem that he didn’t mention his interference to her. He paused. “So what are you thanking me for?” he asked, frowning.

“Well,” she hedged. “I was just thinking. He wouldn’t change his mind like this easily if no one, um, you know, _persuaded_ him to.”

Somehow, he couldn’t help the corner of his lips from twitching because of this. Kyoya took off his glasses, placed it on the table and leaned back on his seat. He closed his eyes wearily. Maybe Fuyumi was right about him going straight to bed. His shoulders were already aching.

“So naturally you thought it was my doing?” he asked.

“Yes. You’re the only one I know who can do that.”

For the briefest moment, Kyoya wondered what would happen if he admitted that he already paid the debt they owe Inoue. What would Haruhi do? What would she say? But then again, there’s no merit in doing that, right? Besides, she would just think he did that so she would owe _him_ instead anyway. Which was not that far from reality, if Kyoya was to be frank about it.

“I don’t remember talking to Inoue-san about it,” he finally said.

“Really?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yes.” Which was true. Sort of. He didn’t exactly persuade Inoue. He _paid_ him to stop bothering the Fujioka family. There’s a difference. Kyoya opened his eyes and straightened up as he put on his glasses. “I appreciate the fact that you thought I would do something like that Haruhi, but I’m not that nice.”

She laughed quietly. Kyoya frowned. “What’s funny?”

“You,” she said simply.

“You’re laughing at me,” Kyoya said, raising an eyebrow even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“Well, now that I think about it, you’re right senpai. You wouldn’t just persuade Inoue-san. Maybe you’ll do something worse, like,” she paused thoughtfully. “Like pay off our debts so he won’t have to bother us anymore or something. Then, you would tell me that I owe you again because of it.”

Kyoya paused. Again, he wondered what she would say if he admitted to her that he actually toyed with that scheme for a while. “That’s an idea,” he deadpanned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ugh,” Haruhi replied stiffly, sounding instantly regretful that she ever mentioned it. He chuckled.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to bother you,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it.” He paused. “Haruhi, I’m glad your problem is solved. I hope this means you can concentrate on your work now.”

She sighed through the phone line. “I know. I’m glad too,” she said quietly. “At least dad is safe now.”

“ _You_ are safe now too,” he reminded.

“Oh, right. I guess that’s good too.”

Kyoya leaned back, silently marveling at how much Haruhi could still think of Ranka despite her financial situation. There was something frustrating about how he could never fully understand Haruhi despite all the folders of records he has about her. It still baffled him how she could be so different from the other women he had known before when she was just supposed to be a simple commoner.

She hesitated. “Senpai? Thank you again.”

“Haruhi, I told you I didn’t – ”

“No, I was talking about the conversation we had in the laundry room. You know, your concern – even though you showed it in a _really_ twisted way. And though I didn’t approve it, I really appreciate the fact that you would be willing to help us out.”

He blinked.

“Well. That’s it. Bye,” she said.

“… bye.”

“Oh wait. Senpai?” she said again.

Kyoya was wary. “Yes?”

“I know you’re working, but you really should go to sleep now. It’s late.”

And Haruhi hung up before Kyoya could reply. He stared at the phone a little longer before he put it down. Why do people keep on telling him to sleep? He’s not an eight-year old kid, for crying out loud. The door opened again and Tachibana stepped inside. Kyoya looked at him questioningly.

Tachibana bowed. “Fuyumi-sama asked me to check whether you went to bed yet.”

Kyoya sighed. “Tell her I will, only after she stops spying on me.”

“I’ll pass on the message,” Tachibana said.

Kyoya nodded as he signed his name in one of the documents. He paused as he realized that Tachibana was still standing by the door. He glanced at him. “Yes?”

“Forgive my impertinence, Kyoya-sama, but I was wondering why we did that to Inoue-san. Not,” he quickly added, “that I disapprove of it. In fact, I’m glad we were helping Haruhi-san. But we just can’t help but wonder –”

“We?”

Tachibana hesitated. “I and the rest of your men, sir,” he admitted. “We were just wondering why you went out of your way to talk to that –man…” he trailed off.

Kyoya blinked. “Nee-san likes Haruhi. She would be devastated if she finds out that her favorite commoner is in debt with a dangerous man.” He stopped and looked amused at what he had said. “Of course since I’m her brother, she doesn’t need to count me as one,” he said, mouth twitching at his own joke.

“And that’s the only reason? Sir?” Tachibana asked politely.

Kyoya stared at him. “What could possibly be any other reason?” he asked blankly.

Tachibana bowed apologetically. He turned and opened the door. Kyoya suddenly remembered something. He called Tachibana again.

“Speaking of which, I was wondering whether you could get me the real number of that Sabano Yuri,” Kyoya said thoughtfully.

“That wouldn’t be a problem,” Tachibana promptly assured him. “We have a lot of contacts we can ask…” He paused. “But why do we still need to call him?”

“Just a little precaution. It would be better if we make ties with the head. That would prevent any unwanted retaliation from Inoue against the Fujioka family.” Kyoya paused, adjusting his glasses. “Besides, I’ve been thinking about it ever since Haruhi mentioned Inoue-san’s occupation and having a contact like Sabano Yuri would be very – _valuable_.”

Tachibana hesitated. “I apologize again Kyoya-sama, but surely you’re not thinking of getting into the black market and –”

“Tachibana,” Kyoya said dryly. “Do I look like I would want to start an illegal Ootori venture?”

There was a short pause.

Kyoya raised his eyebrow in amusement. “You don’t need to answer. I’m already amazed with the trust you people have for me,” he deadpanned. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything like that. Especially when I have a brilliant humanitarian lawyer as my secretary. She’ll be all over me if she finds this out. No. I just think it’s time to… broaden our horizons, so to speak. Not all powerful and influential people are well-known, after all.”

Tachibana deliberated this reason before nodding. “I’ll get into it right away.”

Kyoya nodded dismissively as Tachibana quietly got of the room.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really, REALLY want to continue this. =( But um. Well, I'll just leave it like this in the meantime.


End file.
